A Broken Promise
by AmethystPhoenix1
Summary: “Brothers take care of each other,” Edward agreed. “Always.” Years after the death of his family, William Masen embarks on the trip he and his brother Edward planned together and is transformed into a vampire, unaware that Edward suffered the same fate.
1. A Promise

**Author's Note:** So this is my first _Twilight_ fic. I read the series for the first time a few weeks ago, after my friend introduced it to me, and this idea just wouldn't leave me alone, not even long enough for me to reread the series. So I apologize for any errors this may have; I did check the Twilight Lexicon, but there may be things that I have mixed up. Edward never mentions any siblings in the books, but I don't believe he ever denies them either. If he does, well, I'm just playing in the sandbox. :-) And I've always been interested in what it would be like to transform and _not_ be a "vegetarian."

**Disclaimer:** It ought to be quite clear by now that I am not any of the authors whose work I use to bounce my ideas off of.

* * *

**Chapter One: A Promise**

_October __1913_

"Happy birthday, Will."

The newly six-year-old William Masen grinned as he took the small wrapped box from his older brother, Edward. "What is it?" he asked cheekily, rattling it. "Is it jewelry? It looks like it came from Mama's jewelry box. Did you steal it?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Just open it, you goof."

Will just smirked and ripped off the paper, revealing a plain white box. He opened it, tipping the contents into his childishly plump palm. It was a small, clumsily made wooden charm that vaguely resembled a ship. There was a small hole in it near the top, through which Edward had looped a thin white piece of string, then tied together to make a necklace. Will looked back up at his brother, beaming. "Is this why you had all those cuts last week, and why you were spending all that time alone with Papa?"

"Yeah," replied Edward sheepishly. "Do… d'you like it?"

"It's nice," said Will, pulling the string over his neck and admiring it against his shirt. "Does it have anything to do with our adventures at sea?" For the past few weeks, both boys had been obsessed with the idea of sailing the high seas after reading the book _Peter and Wendy_.

Edward laughed. "You haven't seen the back of the charm yet."

Will flipped over the charm and read slowly, "Will and Edward, 1926." He blinked. "What does that mean?"

"That, Will, is the year I've decided we'll actually set sail," said Edward proudly. "I'll be twenty-five, and you'll be eighteen that summer, and we'll be old enough for Mama to let us go, and young enough to catch all the pretty ladies' eyes and have energy to explore plenty."

"That's an awful long time away. We'll be _old_."

Edward sighed. "Haven't you been listening? I just said—"

"I bet Mama's not even that old."

"Yes, she is. She's older."

"No! She can't be!" Will's mouth fell open. "That's _old_!"

Edward shrugged. "Suit yourself." There was a pause, and then he continued, "You're thinking about how we'll be too old for Neverland, if we find it."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are," Edward retorted smugly. "I can tell."

Will deflated. "Well, we will be," he mumbled. "But Edward," he said defensively as Edward opened his mouth to speak, "wouldn't it be nice to live forever like Peter Pan and the Lost Boys? I think it would be awfully fun. And we wouldn't have to listen to Mama when she tries to make us take baths or go to bed…"

"Will," said Edward gently. "Neverland isn't real."

"I know," said Will finally, after a long, awkward silence. "I'm not that little anymore."

"You know, there are places that are just as keen. I learned about them in geography. We can go look at Papa's atlas, and I'll show you where they are."

"Really? Places like Neverland?"

"Yup. There are places with kings and princesses, and strange animals, and ancient temples and the like. We could sail to those places. I want to go to Egypt, where if you're not careful, the mummies will get you." He made a scary face.

"Mummies?" asked Will, wide-eyed.

"They're dead people, except they've been wrapped up in bandages."

"Why are they wrapped up in bandages?"

"So they can lie there in a dark corner, pretending to be just a pile of linen, until unsuspecting adventurers come too close, and then—" Edward raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Will's jaw dropped. "_Really_?" His face took on a grim expression, as he had forgotten all about Neverland by now. "But I bet I could take 'em."

Edward laughed. "We'll go to Egypt and fight them. Then everyone will thank us for saving them, and we'll be heroes." He put an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Come on. I'll show you Egypt in Papa's atlas."

"All right," said Will, grinning, as he allowed himself to be led toward their father's study. "But I want to fight other monsters too. Those mummies sound like they'd be too easy."

"Well, then there's Transylvania. I've heard there's all sorts of monsters there, like werewolves and vampires."

"What are those?"

"Werewolves are men that turn into wolves under the full moon," answered Edward, clearly basking in his superiority in knowledge. "You can only kill them with silver, and you have to be careful, because if they bite you, you become one too. And vampires are dead people who drink human blood. If they bite you and you live, it's like with the werewolves… you're a vampire. And they only come out at night, because during the day, they sleep in coffins. They only die under the sun, or if you stab them in the heart with a wooden—"

Edward was suddenly interrupted by a gasp from behind them. "Edward Anthony Masen, what is this talk about stabbing and dying?" scolded their mother. "Your brother is too young for such things, and to be frank, I think it's a highly inappropriate topic for anyone, regardless of age!"

"But Mother…"

"Enough, Edward!"

Will glanced uneasily between his mother and his brother. "Mama, look what Edward made me." He held out the charm.

"Yes, and he used my best fountain pen to etch out those words," said Elizabeth, but her eyes glinted with amusement.

"Sorry, Mother." There was the shadow of a smirk on Edward's lips.

Elizabeth sighed. "Apology accepted, dear. Now you two run along, and make sure you don't get into any more mischief. I've cleaned the house in preparation for everyone coming for your birthday, Will, and Edward, I'll need you both to get dressed by four o'clock."

"Yes, Mama," said Will as Edward also replied, "Yes, Mother."

"I hate parties," grumbled Will as they continued on their way to their father's study.

"It won't be that bad. You'll get presents!"

"But Auntie Lillian will keep trying to pinch my cheeks."

"She does that to everyone. Even Papa."

Will giggled. "She does! I remember last Christmas, Papa got mad at her."

"And Mother got angry at _him_, for making such a fuss," said Edward, smiling as he reached up onto a shelf in the study and pulled down the giant book that was their father's atlas.

"And he said that any grown man who put up with something like that should be ashamed with himself."

"They argued for ages, over nothing." Edward flipped through the atlas, searching for Egypt.

Will waited quietly, until a sudden worrying thought entered his head. He liked being with his brother this way, but times like these were becoming rarer and rarer as the months and years passed. Already, Will knew Edward was getting bored with him tagging along everywhere, although they still played together. But Edward often became annoyed or tried to go to the houses of his other, older friends. He knew his birthday was one of the reasons why Edward was being so nice, and he did not look forward to the next day, when Edward would probably revert to his other self. "Edward?" Will said meekly.

"Hmm?"

"We _are_ really going to go adventuring together, right? In 1926, when we're old?"

Edward turned away from the atlas and knelt down solemnly so that he was closer in height to his brother. Will suddenly realized how tall Edward was in comparison to him. "Will, I know we don't play together as much as we used to," he said, surprising his brother. "But we _will_ go on an adventure together and fight those monsters."

"Promise?" Will knew he sounded like a child, and he was eager for Edward to see him as not a child, but he wanted a confirmation.

"I promise." Edward's green eyes, just like Will's, were serious. "And I'll always be there for you, Will. Because we're brothers."

"And brothers take care of each other," said Will, smiling.

"Brothers take care of each other," Edward agreed. "Always."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So that's the first chapter. Hopefully, it didn't sound too stilted. I tried to get the childhood feeling in it without making it sound modern, and I feel like it doesn't sound as natural as I would have liked. Let me know how you saw it in your reviews. Also, this is a bit shorter than my usual chapters. It'll be this way for a while -- I've written up to chapter six (including several interludes), and until chapter five, this fic won't be breaking the 2,000 word mark per chapter. But after that, apart from interludes, I think the chapters will be longer. The beginning of this fic is more of a glimpse into Will's life before the transformation.

Edward's use of "goof" is perfectly Edwardian (as in, from the early twentieth century), according to the historical slang dictionary here: www [dot alphadictionary [dot com [slash slang. Type in "1910" for the beginning year.

_Peter and Wendy_ is the same thing as _Peter Pan_ by J.M. Barrie, as you may have guessed. It was published in 1911.

Please review! I do love reading what readers think of my fics.


	2. Spanish Influenza

**Author's Note:** I debated over whether or not to update this soon after the first chapter, since there's no way updates will be this fast once school starts up again for me, since I'm starting work again, and I have a six credit required stats class, which means an extra class period in addition to the extra lecture I have for another class... pretty much, I have more work this coming semester than last semester. But then I was like, why not? So here is chapter two, in which things aren't so happy -- but that's why this fic is categorized as drama/angst. Heh.

Again, I hope I got the canon right; I read the bits in the lexicon and the part in _Twilight_ when Edward talks about what he remembers, so hopefully everything complies.

Thanks to the reviewers from the last chapter. I'm flattered that there have been a few alerts set for this story, and that some of you have added it as a favorite. Hopefully this chapter lives up to your expectations.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the rights to _Twilight_. That much should be obvious by now.

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**Chapter Two: Spanish Influenza**

_September 1918_

Will leaned against the cold white walls of the hallway outside the influenza ward, his eyes closed. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Edward was – he struggled against the word, but it won in the end – dying. All within a couple of days.

Just two days before, Will had been happy. He was going to turn eleven in a month, and his father had promised him something special for his birthday. Edward and Elizabeth had been worried about the draft, but it was clear that the war was coming to a close. And Molly, the girl next door, had finally smiled shyly back at him on his way back from getting flour for his mother.

Then his father had come home from work running a high temperature and coughing. By the late hours of the night, he was delirious, and by late morning, he was dead. The whole family had been shocked, and it had all seemed unreal to Will. Elizabeth fell ill that night, and Edward and Will quickly brought her to the hospital. They had sat outside of the ward, unable to leave and ignoring the nurses that were trying to shoo them home.

Will trembled. He was alone now. With Edward there, he had felt as if they supported each other, but then Edward had become sick as well.

_"Mother's going to be all right," whispered Edward, but it sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as well. Elizabeth was in bad shape.__ "It's just a really bad cold. She'll get over it."_

_"We can't lose both our parents," said Will, tears in his eyes. "We can't."_

_"Shh." Edward put a comforting arm around his brother.__ Will gasped._

_"Edward, you're burning up!"_

_Edward shook his __head,__ and Will realized how dark the circles under his eyes were. He hadn't slept much since their father came home ill. __"I'm fine," he muttered. "It's your imagination."__ His teeth chattered slightly._

_The tears in Will's eyes slipped down his cheeks as he shook his head slowly, his heart twisting. "No…"_

_"I'm _fine_, Will," repeated Edward forcefully.__ "If you're going to worry for someone, worry for Mother."__ He shivered._

_"Edward—" Will was interrupted by a nurse, who gave them a disapproving but sympathetic look before speaking._

_"Your mother wishes to see you,"__ she said before going back into the ward to tend to the patients._

_The boys stood, and Edward nudged Will forward. "Go on," he said._

_"Edward, you need to tell a doctor," Will __said__ staunchly._

_"I'm _fine_, Will!" snapped Edward, his eyes glinting. _

_Will suddenly felt angry.__ Was the Spanish Influenza going to take his whole family? He whirled around, not willing to look at Edward, and marched into the ward.__ On his way in, a nurse passed him, wheeling out a bed covered in a white sheet. Will tore his eyes away from it and searched for his mother instead._

_His mother lay in a bed, looking pale and frail, and smaller than Will had ever seen her. __Her eyes were closed, and a__ doctor stood over her. He was very young, perhaps only in his twenties, and very handsome. __"William? And Edward?" he asked. His accent was English. __Edward nodded curtly. "I'm Dr. Cullen."__ He and Edward shook hands, and then he offered his hand to Will, who took it. It was the first time he had shaken hands with someone._

_"You're… awfully young," said Edward finally._

_"Edward, don't be rude," said Elizabeth, her eyes opening. Her voice was little more than a whisper.__ Edward took her hand, his eyes gleaming with moisture._

_"Mother…"_

_"I am young," admitted Dr. Cullen. "But I will do the best I can to guide your mother to recovery."_

_Elizabeth grasped Will's hand with her other hand. The grip was weak, and Will felt fresh tears form in his eyes. __"Oh, darlings," she said. She pulled her hand from Edward's, __and then__ stroked Will's face, then his.__ Her eyes grew wide. "Edward!"_

_"Mother, I'm fine." It was the same line he had fed to Will.__ "It's just stress."_

_But Elizabeth was shaking her head disbelievingly, silent tears coursing down her cheeks. __"Edward," she sobbed._

_"I'm—" But he stopped short as, to Will's horror, he began to cough violently. __Dr. Cullen rushed over, a concerned look on his face.__ Edward waved him off, still coughing into his handkerchief. __The fit finally abated, but when he drew his handkerchief away, there was a spot of scarlet on it._

_Edward's eyes grew wide. __Elizabeth began to weep. __Will's head felt as though it were spinning; all sound had vanished, except for one that was like wind in his ears and his own heartbeat. __"No!" someone screamed. Will __realized__ it had been him._

Elizabeth had died a few hours later, that afternoon. It was now nearly midnight, and Will had been in the hospital for days. He stared listlessly out at Chicago, his mind numb. He still could not believe his parents were dead, and that Edward would be.

"Will?" It was the same nurse that had called them in to see their mother. Her face was no longer disapproving, only sympathetic. Will had a strange urge to smack the expression off. _She_ hadn't lost her family. Of course _she_ could afford to be sympathetic. "Your brother would like to see you."

Will turned and closed his eyes. It was only a matter of time now, then. He had not been allowed in the ward until now, as the nurses said he could get sick as well. But now that Edward was going to die…

He turned back around and made his way stiffly toward the nurse and the open door. "Don't lose hope," said the nurse kindly, putting a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off, not caring that it was rude to do so.

"Hello, Will," said Edward weakly, attempting to put on a cheerful façade but failing miserably.

There were voices outside in the hall. Someone seemed to be protesting. A moment later, the doors slammed open, and a woman strode in. It was Aunt Lillian, who must have come all the way from New York. She was walking so quickly, the pins were falling out of her hair. She looked deranged. "I came as quickly as possible." In the moonlight, Will could see tear tracks on her cheeks. "But I was already too late for my poor sister and her husband."

"Aunt Lillian," greeted Edward politely.

Lillian burst suddenly into tears. "Oh, I just cannot believe it!"

"Madam, you are disturbing the patients," said a nurse quietly.

"Yes, I'm sorry." Lillian kissed Edward's forehead. "You'll be all right. You're young, and the world is not that cruel." She reluctantly let the nurse lead her out.

Will turned back to his brother. "Edward," he whispered, pulling out something from behind his shirt. It was the charm from his sixth birthday.

Edward touched it lightly, grinning crookedly. "I remember this. You still wear it?"

"Yes, of course." Will took a deep breath. "Because we _are_ going to do this one day. In 1926, when you're twenty-five and I'm eighteen, old enough to get around on our own and young enough so that all the pretty ladies will smile at us, and we'll have a grand time."

"Yes, we are." Edward began to cough. When the fit subsided, he added, "I promised."

"We'll show those mummies and werewolves and vampires." Despite himself, a giggle escaped from Will.

Edward beamed. "We'll use Mother's silver for the werewolves."

"And Grandmama's cross above the mantelpiece for the vampires."

"Father's ornamental swords for the mummies."

Will laughed.

Edward's eyes sobered. "Your image is slipping from my eyes," he whispered. The smile was wiped off Will's face. "I've been having strange dreams all night, and I'm afraid, Will, that I won't ever wake up from them."

He was being brutally honest, and Will found that he could not take it. "You promised we would sail together," he whispered fiercely, clasping Edward's hot hand in his own two hands.

"Yes, but if I cannot keep that promise" – Edward's eyes were sad – "I want you to promise me to be happy. Go around the world, for both of us."

"You promised," repeated Will, sobbing. "You can't break promises. You said you'd always be there for me."

"I did." Edward was silent for a moment. "It's so easy, though, to just slip into the darkness…" He didn't seem to be talking to anyone in particular anymore.

"Edward?" whimpered Will, shaking his hand hard.

Edward murmured something unintelligible. His eyes were open, but glazed and feverish. "Will, it's time that you went back outside," said Dr. Cullen, stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's not good for your health to be in here."

Will nodded mutely, then went back into the hallway in a trance. "Darling," whispered Lillian. She had somehow procured two chairs to sit in. Will sat next to her, letting her embrace him, his silently streaming eyes returning to stare numbly out the window.

He woke suddenly some hours later, not knowing when he had fallen asleep. His head was on Lillian's lap, and her fingers were rhythmically running through his hair. She did not seem to realize that Will was awake. Outside, the sun was rising.

The door to the ward opened, and Will sat up, startling his aunt. It was Dr. Cullen. His expression was grim. "Will. Mrs. Waters. I'm sorry."

Will could not comprehend what the doctor was saying. Why was he sorry? He hadn't offended them, had he? Beside him, Lillian began to weep. _Maybe Edward's dead_,guessed Will. He did not feel anything, strangely.

A nurse appeared, wheeling a sheeted bed out of the ward. _That__ must be__ Edward_, thought Will, and for some reason, he thought this hilarious. He began to laugh, causing Lillian and the nurse to stop and stare and Dr. Cullen to appear confused. "It's Edward!" he cried, running toward his brother's body. The nurse gasped as Will pushed her aside and pulled the sheet away. Edward lay there, pale as the sheet over him, looking as if he were asleep. Will thought he imagined Edward's chest rise and fall very slightly.

"Stop pretending to be dead!" he said, guffawing the entire time. "The joke's over."

"Will," said Dr. Cullen, but Will ignored him.

"Really, it's not going to be funny for much longer." There were stitches in his side, he was laughing so hard. He poked Edward's arm, hard, but Edward did not budge. Will stopped laughing, becoming angry instead. "I saw you breathe, Edward. Stop pretending!"

"Will…"

Edward's face did not change. "I saw you breathe!" Will roared, hitting him. The nurse flinched toward Will, but Dr. Cullen stopped her. "Edward, please," whispered Will. "Wake up. You promised."

There was no response. Will's heart beat faster in panic. "Edward? Wake up." Still nothing. "Wake up!" He began to sob. "Please, Edward, wake up!"

"Will…" This time, Dr. Cullen placed a hand on Will's shoulder and gently covered Edward's face again. His hand, Will realized for the first time, was icy cold. "I'm sorry."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I did a little bit of reading (coughWikipediacough) on the Spanish Influenza, and although I found out lots about when and where it started, the article was a bit vague on what it was actually like. So I based it off what I've seen before in books and such about epidemic diseases. Also, I looked up World War I; by September of 1918, when Edward was supposed to have been transformed, the war was nearly over. So that's where that line about the war winding down came from.

I couldn't resist placing in that bit about monster-slaying, even though there was a bit in the last chapter. Something about the irony of it. :-)

An FYI: Will is, of course, right. He _did_ actually see his brother breathe, as Edward is still alive. Carlisle has somehow managed to convince everyone else that Edward is dead (I assume it wouldn't actually be that difficult, as Edward is very close to death, and medical equipment then wasn't like it is today). Carlisle's got some maneuvering ahead of him, but we won't really go into that, because this story is really Will's, and not his, haha.

Almost done. Please remember to drop a review. Even if it's one line. They're very appreciated, and they motivate me to keep writing (which will be more difficult once this period of boredom ends).

Finally, a bit of next chapter, since I have it written. I think I used to do this with my old HP fics, but maybe it'll make you look forward to the next chapter.

_"You're ridiculous," he told himself as he glanced down, disgusted, at the still present box. Resolutely, he stood and made his way toward the fences that separated the area from the water. He touched the photograph one last time, then slowly pulled the necklace he had made from around his neck, placing it next to the photograph. The charm landed with the words face-up, and Will refused to look at them. He closed the box with a click, fastening it shut, before taking a deep breath and throwing the box over the edge. It landed with a splash before starting to sink immediately, weighed down by the rocks._

_He turned his back on it, his eyes darting back to the bench that the man had been sitting on. The man was gone. Will glanced around, and he found the man, now striding briskly away, the newspaper under his arm. He was tall and slim, and the hair that Will could see from underneath his cap was honey-colored._


	3. New Life

**Author's Note: **So here's the next chapter in this fic. I haven't done much writing with this fic lately, since I've been beginning to get back into the HP fandom, so I hesitated putting up more chapters. But then I realized that I've got about eleven sections written, so prolonging the posting of this chapter wasn't really necessary. Anyway, here it is... thanks to my reviewers from last chapter; your opinions are greatly appreciated.

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ and its characters still do not belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Three: New Life**

_September 1919_

Adjusting to life in New York City had been difficult for Will. Aunt Lillian and Uncle Percy were perfectly nice, but neither of them had lost their entire families to the Spanish Influenza. Both had been safe in their summer home in upstate New York at the time of the outbreak, and their son, Will's cousin Henry, had been at his boarding school in Massachusetts.

Uncle Percy worked on Wall Street, which confused Will at first, until his uncle had explained that Wall Street was another name for the stock market. The Waters were big spenders, unlike Will's father, who had kept them in comfort but while saving for the boys' college educations in the future. Aunt Lillian had tea with a group of similar women three times a week. Henry came home once a month for a weekend. Will did not look forward to them; Henry had never particularly been nice to him. He was a couple of years older than Will, and he used his position in the family to his own benefit. When Edward was alive, Henry had been bearable, since Edward would protect Will. But Edward was gone, and Henry became Will's tormentor.

"Your brother can't save you now, Willy," Henry had sneered the first time they met after Lillian had brought Will to New York.

Will had clenched his fists and said nothing. It was fruitless to do so, since Henry would run to his parents if he ever replied. In his parents' eyes, Henry was a golden boy.

Lillian and Percy enrolled Will in a school in a city, since, as they put it, "he needed to be near family." Will was grateful for the thought, but then again, he would have been much happier at boarding school. At least then, he would be able to visit on a different weekend from Henry and avoid him that way. At least then, he wouldn't have to face all of Aunt Lillian's friends, who clucked sympathetically every time they saw him. All it did was remind him of what had happened, and he wanted to forget.

Will did not remember much of the first few weeks after his family's deaths, which Lillian said was a blessing. He had been near catatonic, never moving unless someone led him away or if he had to use the toilet, never eating unless Lillian force-fed him. In Chicago, he had sat on his bed and stared out the window, as he had in the hospital, while his aunt had some of his things packed. In New York, he had done the same thing.

After those few weeks, Will had healed sufficiently enough to go down to breakfast one morning, startling his aunt and uncle. Gradually, he began to speak to them, starting off with the occasional request, until eventually, he began to converse again. They enrolled him in school in the middle of October, and Will immersed himself in the schoolwork he had to do to catch up. At school, he told the other students that asked that his parents had died. He never mentioned Edward.

Lillian had salvaged a portrait taken of the Masens, and she framed it and gave it to Will soon after he began to recover. He had unframed it and had placed it under his pillow instead. Will remembered taking the photograph; it had been for a special occasion, and Elizabeth had insisted. He had been eight at the time. Every night, Will ran his fingers lightly over the faces of his mother and father, but never _him_, and only then would he allow himself to think about his parents. Otherwise, he did his best to forget.

But he could not forget the other family member in the photograph. _Him_. Edward had promised to be there always, and he wasn't there anymore. Every time he heard someone calling for someone named Edward – on the street, at school – he turned, expecting to see his brother, but it was always that other Edward. And every time, it tore a new hole through his heart. Edward had been his brother and his best friend, his adventure partner.

Over time, the pain turned into anger. Will knew he was being irrational, that Edward had wanted to live, but he couldn't help but blame Edward for not trying harder. Nor could he forgive Dr. Cullen, who had failed to save his brother when he had given up. He stopped referring to either of them by name in his mind, but rather called them both "_him_" in his thoughts.

It was almost a year to the day after _his_ death. The day after, Sunday, would be one year exactly. Henry was home for the weekend, but luckily, Will hadn't encountered him yet.

His luck did not hold. As Will sat on the corner of his bed that night, studying his photograph as he always did, his bedroom door opened. It was Henry.

"I realized I hadn't said hello yet," said Henry, smirking. "Which is rude, since you are my _dear_ cousin."

Will did not reply.

"What's wrong, Willy-boy? What's that you're holding in your hands? I bet they're lewd images. I should tell Mother."

"It's not a lewd image," Will snapped.

"Well, then, you ought to have no problem letting me take a look." Henry held out his hand.

There was no way Will would let Henry besmirch the photograph of his family by touching it. "No."

"Then I suppose they _are_ inappropriate? I shall have to take it from you, then, confiscate it, if you will, and be a good role model."

"Liar. If it was a lewd image, you'd just add it to your collection."

"Why, you little—" Henry started forward, his expression stormy. He was fourteen, and quite a bit bigger than Will.

"I won't let you see it."

"I don't care if you'll let me," snarled his cousin. He snatched the photograph before Will had a chance to react, then looked at it for a long time. "Ah, I see," he said finally, smirking. Will's stomach sank. The smirk did not bode well. "What a little girl you are," he said. "Crying over your family a year later. Weak, sniveling little child."

"I don't cry," retorted Will before he could stop himself. "And I'm not a child."

"Oh? Well, then, I don't suppose you'd mind if I did this—" And he tore the photograph in half.

Will gasped. Henry sneered and let the pieces fall to the floor. He ground them into the floor with his foot, crumpling and tearing the ruined photograph, then flounced out, whistling.

Will dropped to the floor, next to the two pieces, which he picked up with shaking hands. To his infinite horror and embarrassment, he began to cry, something he had promised himself he would never do again. The picture was scratched now. He would be able to glue it back together, but it would never be the same.

He held the two pieces together and felt a fresh stab of pain as he realized how aptly Henry had torn the photograph. The break was just between Will and the rest of his family.

The next day, Will had made up his mind. He needed to get rid of his keepsakes in order to stay strong. He thought with disgust about how he had cried the night before and cursed his weakness. He should have done this earlier.

Percy had an old metal cash box that he had discarded. It lay in his study. Will took it, sure that his uncle wouldn't mind. He had been trying to get rid of the box for ages. In the box, Will placed several rocks and the pieces of the photograph. Then he headed out to the southern tip of the island, grabbing a few coins on the way out to pay for the subway fare.

By the time he got there, it was nearing lunchtime. He had to hurry, or else Lillian would notice his absence. There were many other people strolling in the area: tourists, friends, lovers, and – Will winced – families. He sat down on a bench, steeling himself. The Statue of Liberty stood in the distance, and he studied it intently for a while to put off what he had to do for just a little longer.

When he got bored of that, he watched the other people for a while. A couple walked, arm in arm, the woman smiling at something the man had said. An old man sat nearby, playing the guitar, an upended hat in front of him. As Will turned from him to look elsewhere, he realized someone was watching him. He whirled around. A man, or perhaps an older boy, sat on a nearby bench, apparently engrossed in a newspaper, his hat pulled low so as to hide most of his face. Will shook away the feeling; perhaps he was imagining things.

"You're ridiculous," he told himself as he glanced down, disgusted, at the still present box. Resolutely, he stood and made his way toward the fences that separated the area from the water. He touched the photograph one last time, then slowly pulled the necklace _he_ had made from around his neck, placing it next to the photograph. The charm landed with the words face-up, and Will refused to look at them. He closed the box with a click, fastening it shut, before taking a deep breath and throwing the box over the edge. It landed with a splash before starting to sink immediately, weighed down by the rocks.

He turned his back on it, his eyes darting back to the bench that the man had been sitting on. The man was gone. Will glanced around, and he found the man, now striding briskly away, the newspaper under his arm. He was tall and slim, and the hair that Will could see from underneath his cap was honey-colored.

_Like Ed— _hishe thought vaguely, before snorting in derision at his own ridiculousness. He glanced backwards, at the spot where the box had sunk. This turned out to be a mistake, as his eyes welled up with tears. "Goodbye," he whispered to himself, before stumbling forward, his vision blurred.

He sprinted away, ignoring the looks the other people on the promenade gave him. Suddenly, he slammed into someone. "Sorry," he gasped as he was steadied. The hands that helped him were ice cold. It was the young man from before. Will could not see his face; it was turned away from him. In fact, the young man was already walking away. Will shook away an uneasy feeling before heading home, his stumble having strangely calmed him.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hopefully I did an acceptable job of portraying New York City in 1919, as I am only really familiar with the New York City of today. Also, hopefully, Will's behavior is realistic; I'm always afraid in these types of scenes that the characters are contradictory or too dramatic or something.

The Waters' house is based off of Holly Golightly's townhouse (which happens to be on the Upper East Side, where the Waters house is... this is mentioned in a later chapter, heh) in _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. Uncle Percy, as someone who works on Wall St. (and someone who will become very wealthy over the next few years), seems to be the type of person to purchase a home in the Upper East Side of 1919's New York City. Wealthy, but not too wealthy/aristocratic of an area.

The southern tip of Manhattan, which Will travels to, is Battery Park. There is a nice promenade there, although I doubt that anyone could throw anything into the water nowadays and get away with it. Also, the subway did exist at that time -- I looked it up. I'm pretty sure there was a line that could have taken Will from his relatives' house to Battery Park by then, but if not, I call upon artistic license. XD

Finally, I will be heading back to school next weekend, so I'll most likely be spacing out the chapters I've got to avoid long gaps between posts. Just a warning.

Please review! I love reviews... I have a new plan to get you all to review, by the way. Those who review before the posting of the next chapter will get a sneak preview of it. In other words, cookies to those who review; if you haven't got a username, give me your email address in your review if you want the cookie. ;)


	4. Interlude: Edward

**Author's Note:** Sorry, I meant to post this yesterday, but I forgot to (blame new addictions to _Sex in the City_ and _Scrubs_). Anyway, I'm back in school now, but I've got some chapters written, so what will happen is that I'll post them on a regular schedule until I get time to write new ones. It's difficult writing at school, anyway, but I've got the books here if I ever am able to. Also, thanks to the reviewers from last chapter!

So this chapter isn't really a chapter, but an interlude. There will be interludes spread out amongst the chapters, and they will be in the first person.

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ and its characters still do not belong to me. Otherwise, I would not be in college right now.

**Interlude: Edward**

A year after my supposed death, my eyes had finally become a topaz color after months of scarlet. I had spent the months in seclusion with Carlisle in Ashland, Wisconsin, where he slowly trained me to reject human blood. I also developed my power, which at first was uncontrollable and nearly drove me insane. It was a good thing I had Carlisle; if I had not, my power and my newborn status would have resulted in many bloody murders.

Carlisle pronounced me ready to mingle with the occasional human, but he balked when I requested to see my brother. "I won't talk to him," I assured him. "I just want to see… to see how he's doing."

"Edward," he replied gently. "You can't see him. What if he sees you? And he's in a city… that's a risk you don't want to take right now. If he lived in a rural area, possibly, but he's with your aunt and uncle in New York City now. Not only do you not know the area – which means you would have to ask for directions – it's filled with humans."

"But you said—"

"I said you were ready for perhaps one or two humans at a time. Not thousands."

"Carlisle, he has no one left."

Carlisle sighed. "Edward, I'm sure your aunt and uncle are kind to him."

I shook my head vehemently. "They would be. But not my rat of a cousin, Henry. He's always made it his job to torment Will, and now that I'm not there to protect him…"

"There is nothing you can do anyway." His words were blunt, but there was compassion in his eyes.

"What if," I said, frustrated, "what if you came with me? You've been to New York countless times. You could guide me to him and make sure I don't bite anyone." I could hear his thoughts relenting.

Carlisle sighed again. Finally, he replied, "All right. I will do this, but only this one time."

We traveled to New York City, much too slowly, in my opinion. Carlisle and I posed as brothers visiting a sick aunt.

Eager to get going, I dressed carefully for the occasion the day we arrived, making sure I was inconspicuous and unrecognizable. Like any lower middle class boy in the city, I wore a white shirt, brown trousers, and suspenders. Over that, I placed a gray wool cap, bringing it low over my eyes so that my face was hidden. To be safe, I tucked a newspaper under my arm in case I needed to hide behind it.

Carlisle inspected my disguise and grudgingly agreed that it would be safe enough to go out in. He wore a similar outfit, although he did not really need a disguise; it was unlikely that anyone would recognize him. _You a__re certain you want to do this?_ he thought.

"I'm sure," I replied firmly, giving my cap one last tug. Carlisle nodded grimly and stepped outside.

"Your aunt and uncle live northeast of here," he said, glancing at the slip of paper on which I had written their address. "It's a little bit of a walk, but any hotels closer would make us suspicious. Much too expensive for the likes of our disguises."

Eighty-sixth Street between Park and Madison Avenues. I hadn't been there many times, but I remembered the address well because Will was there. I wouldn't be able to forget the address even if I wanted to.

The last time we had visited Aunt Lillian and Uncle Percy – and Henry – had been four years before my parents' deaths. Father had never liked them much; he often said that they spent much more than they earned, and that was taboo in his mind, as he regarded frugality as a virtue. As a result, Mother could only get us to visit every few years.

Will and I never minded that. In fact, we would have preferred never going at all. Aunt Lillian was the type of aunt that pinched our cheeks, and Uncle Percy often made jokes that never made sense. And Henry was the worst. He tormented Will, who was younger than he was, and would only stop if I threatened to break all the bones in his body.

I recognized the house at once. It was thin and made of bricks, with a flight of stairs leading up to the door. Aunt Lillian had paid someone to plant a few shrubs in front of the house, and it was next to these shrubs that Henry and two other boys stood, leaning lazily against the fence, casting sticks and stones into the street. I tensed. Henry was snapping twigs off his mother's shrubs, and I wanted nothing more than to tear out his throat. I had despised him before, but now I was consumed by an almost ridiculously fiery hatred for him.

_Like your other traits, your dislike for __your cousin has been amplified_, murmured Carlisle in his thoughts as we passed them to go up the stairs. They stared unabashedly at us, and I studiously ignored them, tugging my cap down again to be safe. Carlisle raised a hand to ring the doorbell, but a voice behind us interrupted him.

"No one is home," said one of Henry's friends. My breath hitched. He wasn't home.

"What do you want?" added Henry. _They look poor_, he thought scathingly.

I clenched my fists at the sound of his voice. Next to me, Carlisle turned. "We're looking for William Masen," he said smoothly.

There was an astonished pause. "What do you want him for?" Henry asked, confused. _No one's ever asked for him. He's not important enough._

I opened my mouth to retort that Will was important, much more important than him, but Carlisle barreled forward. "We're brothers of one of his good friends in Chicago. Our brother died last year, but we were in the area to visit our sick aunt, so we decided to visit Will. To see how he is faring." Surprisingly, he gave the three boys a menacing glare, as if to say that _they_ would not be faring well if Will wasn't.

This scared Henry enough to cooperate. "H-He had a box with him when he went out ten minutes ago. I saw him fill the box with rocks. He went towards the subway platform over there—" he pointed in one direction "—and that train goes south."

"Right. Thank you." Carlisle pulled me away. I was shaking from the encounter, and as we walked quickly in the direction Henry had pointed to, he asked, "Are you sure you can handle this, Edward?"

"I'm certain." I knew I could. Will was on the line. That fact kept me from succumbing to my instincts and mauling Henry, and it kept me from attacking the others on the crowded train. "Will's gone south with a weighted box. What does that mean?"

"He's going to throw it into the river," said Carlisle. I blinked. Of course – the answer was obvious now. _What I want__ to know is what he's throwing_, he added

I mulled this over as the train moved through underground passageways. Perhaps he was throwing away something he did not want Aunt Lillian to see. But I couldn't see my brother – my mostly sensible brother – doing something so pointless. It wasn't necessary to go all the way to the river. But what if he was trying to separate himself from something? I was concerned. What could hurt him so much?"

We arrived at Battery Park and immediately scoured the surrounding area for Will. After a few minutes of searching, Carlisle finally spotted him sitting on a bench, the box in his hands. He touched my arm reassuringly, and then left me alone for a little while. I moved closer, as close as I dared. There was a bench behind the one he stood in front of; I sat on that one and unfolded my newspaper to further hide my face as I drank in the sight of him.

He had grown taller, and his hair, the same color as mine, was slightly longer. He had become a little paler, no doubt a result of staying inside more than he had in Chicago. His eyes were fixated on the Statue of Liberty, but after a while, he glanced around, his eyes falling on a couple walking and a man playing his guitar before they turned curiously in my direction.

Quickly, I pretended to be engrossed in my newspaper. After a few moments, I felt his gaze turn away from me. I moved the newspaper slightly and watched him stand and move to the fence. I tuned into his thoughts for the first time. _You have to do this, Will,_ he told himself. _Don't be ridiculous_.He opened the box, and I craned my neck to see what was inside. It seemed to be a photograph. I squinted to see it better, and gasped. It was a family portrait, torn into two pieces. He touched it sadly, and then removed a necklace from around his neck. My necklace, I realized. A wave of sadness hit me. Did he hate me? I stood, unable to take it, and began to walk away.

I heard a splash as the box hit the water. A moment later, someone slammed into me. It was Will, his face scrunched up in pain. "Sorry," he said as I steadied him, instantly regretting it, since as soon as I touched him, I wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. But I came to my senses and let go of him, as if burned, and began to walk away briskly.

But I realized then that I could not let that box remain at the bottom of the river. Will _had_ to go on that journey we had planned to take one day, and that necklace was the only thing I could use to remind him. I ignored Carlisle, who was approaching me again, and began to run, looking for a place to dive.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This interlude was actually difficult to write, because 1.) I needed to make sure everything fit with the previous chapter and 2.) I completely forgot that Edward can hear other people's thoughts, which meant I wrote this entire interlude _and_ part of the next Edward interlude before I realized that I had completely forgotten to add in thoughts. So I had to go in and change some stuff, which was annoying. Hopefully it isn't too jarring... luckily, there's no set tone to writing Edward (writing as Bella later on was worse in that respect).

I explained the bit about the house last chapter, although there's an actual location this time, heh. As for Edward's outfit, think Jack from _Titanic_.

Please review... I'll put the excerpt here, because I don't know if I'll have time to reply to reviews or not.

_William studied the parcel. There was no return address, although a stamp told him it had been posted from Wyoming, of all places. He ripped off the paper, revealing a simple box, which he opened. He tipped it over, and a charm on a string fell out._

_He nearly fell over._ Will and Edward, 1926. 


	5. Will, 1926

**Author's Note:** Ahh! I'm sorry, I meant to post this on Sunday, but somehow, it just got postponed. I would make the excuse that I had a lot of work to do, but I've had this chapter done, as most of you probably remember, so that's probably not a good excuse. Anyway, here it is. I don't really like this chapter much; I don't feel like I wrote it very well, and it feels rushed. But I really don't have time to go through and edit it much, so I guess it'll have to stay as it is.

I was extremely happy, though, with the feedback I got for last chapter. I certainly was not expecting that many reviews, and hopefully, I replied to all of the signed ones. Thank you to each and every one of you.

**Disclaimer:** It's the same old story. I am not a professional writer, so therefore, the characters and the like cannot be fine. Rules of logic.

* * *

**Chapter Four: ****Will, 1926**

_May 1926_

"Hello, William."

William jumped and nearly slammed his bedroom door shut in shock, but he caught it in time. "Helen! How did you get in here?"

Helen just smiled. "My mother's having tea with your aunt again, and she brought me over. It's almost as if she's encouraging this."

She was a pretty girl of seventeen, about a year younger than William, and her mother and Aunt Lillian were old friends. Her father worked with Uncle Percy. Helen had short, bobbed blonde curly hair and large blue eyes; her mother often complained about the short, loose dresses she wore, but she approved highly of William.

"I heard you were going there," she continued, pointing at a Yale pennant hanging in the corner.

William nodded. "In September."

"It's so far away."

"Not really," he replied. "It's a train ride away from here. And I won't be with Henry, thank God." Henry attended Princeton, and for the past two years, had not been home very often. Even during the holidays, he would be out of the house most of the time, with his friends from school that lived in the city. William was glad he would have the chance to see his cousin even less.

"What about me, William?" Her tone was playful, but her eyes betrayed some worry.

"Don't worry," he replied, taking her hand and kissing it. "I'll come back."

She smiled and pulled him to her before he knew what was happening. "You are far too honorable," she said huskily before kissing him much less chastely on the mouth. William responded eagerly.

They separated, both slightly breathless. Some of the pins had fallen out of Helen's hair. "It's for your own good," he murmured before initiating another kiss.

He remembered the day they had met vividly. It had been more than a year prior, during his seventeenth birthday party.

_William stumbled into the kitchen, having finally__ escaped his aunt's guests._

_"So you're the birthday boy,"__ said a voice in the gloom__The light switched on, revealing a smirking girl.__ "I wanted to wish you a happy birthday, but__ you were always surrounded by __people. And to tell the truth, I was getting really claustrophobic out there. Well, happy birthday. I'm Helen, by the way. Helen Trellis."_

_William scanned his mind for her name. "Are you related to Margaret Trellis?"_

_"Her daughter, actually." __They stood there awkwardly for a moment, before she continued, "I want to get out of here."_

_William blinked, taken aback._

_She laughed. "Come with me. You can't want to stay here, with all these people you don't know. We'll go do something more fun."_

_William bit his lip. "I don't know… it's my birthday party; I should stay."_

_"Exactly. It's _your_ birthday party. That means _you_ decide everything, including when you're allowed to leave."_

William, however, did not remember much of that night, although their first meeting was seared into his memory. Helen had led him through a myriad of alleyways and into what he realized later was a speakeasy. She was carefree and disregarded the rules, whereas he was quiet and the goal of many a mother for their daughters. That night, he had gotten drunk for the first time, and he and Helen had done things his sober self then would have blushed over.

Mrs. Trellis had been so happy when she realized what was going on between her daughter and William. William, she felt, would respect her daughter and curb her in a little. Lillian was less pleased; she too disapproved of Helen's ways.

"You're distracted." Helen pulled away, pouting.

"I was just thinking of the day we met."

She giggled. "You were so concerned about my reputation then. I had to get you drunk to get you to even treat me differently from every other girl on the planet."

William put his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. She relaxed, sighing with contentment. "I love you," he blurted out before he realized what he was doing.

She tensed, but there was a knock on the door that interrupted her response. They split apart as the door opened, revealing Lillian, who was holding a package. She studied them disapprovingly for a moment, before handing the package to William and saying, "William, a parcel for you." She turned and left, leaving the door open.

"Oh, what is it?" asked Helen, excited.

"I don't know." William studied the parcel. There was no return address, although a stamp told him it had been posted from Wyoming, of all places. He ripped off the paper, revealing a simple box, which he opened. He tipped it over, and a charm on a string fell out.

He nearly fell over. _Will and Edward, 1926_. He began to shake.

"What's wrong?" asked Helen.

"I… I threw this in the river…"

"Maybe someone you know found it and knew it was yours?"

"And posted it from Wyoming? Besides, it was in a weighted box, and I threw it in the river _seven years ago_."

"Someone's playing a trick on you, then."

William was about to deny this as well, when he suddenly realized something. "Henry would do something like this. He probably paid someone to put a Wyoming stamp on the package." He stormed out of the room, toward Henry's.

He banged on the door. It opened, revealing a peeved-looking Henry. "What do you want?" he snapped, clearly too annoyed to be his usual self. There was a whiff of alcohol on his clothing.

"What is this?" snarled William, shoving the necklace in his cousin's face. "It's not funny!"

"How the devil would I know?" asked Henry sourly, pushing it away. "Now leave me alone." He made to shut the door, but William stopped him.

"Don't play innocent! I know you sent it."

"Yes, because I have nothing else to do." Henry snorted and shut the door, locking it.

"I know you sent it!" William shouted through the door.

There were footsteps on the stairs, and Lillian appeared, frowning. "William, what on earth are you doing?"

"This was in the package," he said, handing the necklace to his aunt.

She read the inscription. "Oh. Oh, dear…" Her eyes filled up with tears, and William felt guilty for showing the necklace to her. He didn't have the heart to tell her now that it was all a hoax from Henry. "What does it mean?"

"We were… we were supposed to go on an adventure this year. He was twelve; I was six."

"Oh, William…" She sniffed. "You must go on an adventure of sorts, then."

"But—" William wanted to point out that the necklace wasn't the original, that Henry had sent it, but then realized that wouldn't deter his aunt.

"You must. Even though Edward can't do it with you."

He winced at the name. "It was a childhood fancy."

"Even so, you must. You owe it to your brother."

"I don't owe him anything," he snapped bitterly.

Lillian looked taken aback. "You do," she said grimly. "He was your older brother." She touched his arm lightly. "It will give you closure, I think."

* * *

A month later, William, urged on by Lillian, had booked passage on a ship bound for France. For all of July and part of August, he would be exploring Europe before coming back for school. It had all been rather sudden, and William was still partially in shock.

Aunt Lillian and Uncle Percy had come to see him off at the dock, as well as Helen. "Be safe, dear," said Lillian. "Don't go into suspicious looking places."

"I would think he's old enough to know that, Lillian," said Percy, rolling his eyes. "William's always been a sensible boy." He shook William's hand, and Lillian embraced her nephew before both left, leaving the two teenagers alone.

Helen strode forward and kissed William, and both ignored the scandalized stares the older women around them were giving them. "Don't let any European wenches near you," she whispered, before biting his neck right above his collarbone. He jumped, shocked.

"What are you doing?"

"Marking you as mine," she said, smirking and examining the dark mark that had appeared on his pale skin. "Now you're damaged goods."

William laughed. "Helen, you know I don't want anyone else." He caught her chin, gazing into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered. It was the first time he had dared say it again.

She tore away. "Write to me," she murmured before turning and walking away.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Honestly, as of now, I have no idea what is to become of Helen. She does make a tentative appearance later on in one of the chapters I have written, but she will not be a love interest, that's for sure. Most likely she'll be a symbol of what Will will lose/has lost due to circumstances. Besides, she's not that likable of a character anyway... at least, I don't think so. Anyway, yeah, like I said, this entire chapter seems a bit melodramatic and rushed, in my opinion, but that was because I was in a hurry to get to the good part, which I think is in the next chapter.

Not much research for this chapter -- speakeasies are part of common knowledge, really. I don't remember, but Wyoming, the location where Edward is in this chapter (if you didn't figure it out, the parcel was from Edward), may have been in the Twilight Lexicon. I'm not sure. I wrote this quite a while ago.

As always, please review! I squee over them, really. My week has been alternating between all right and outright depressing because of all the work and extra stress that's been popping up (I seem to be unable to get a job), and I'll be happy to see them.

Preview for next chapter:

_"William," she repeated, a little sadly._

_"You shouldn't know my name," he muttered, his hand searching for a potential weapon. _

_She advanced toward him, and he stepped backwards, stumbling over something but not falling over, as he should have. "William, please."_

_"What have you done to me? What are you?" he demanded harshly, leaning against the doorframe for support. To his horror, a piece of wood came off in his hand. He stared at it, unable to comprehend what had just happened._

You'll like it. It's a lot longer than this one, and I think better written.


	6. Bianca

**Author's Note:** So, even though I'm swamped with work at the moment, I'm updating with this chapter for all of you, since it is Sunday, and I have not updated since the Wednesday/Thursday before last. So you all had better be happy about it. : ) I believe this is the chapter most of you have been waiting for, and it most definitely advances the plot, for those of you who were getting slightly antsy. Anyway, as always, thanks to all the reviewers; I especially enjoyed reading the ones that came in at one or two in the morning, after I posted the last chapter, because it means I'm not the only crazy one who stays up that late, haha.

There is one bit of research I did last chapter that I forgot to mention. "Helen" was the second most popular girls' name in 1900-1909, which corresponds with "William," which held the same spot in the boys' list. An interesting tidbit, even though Helen is not a central character, which sort of hints at what would have happened had this following chapter never occurred. You can find the list here: www[dotbehindthename[dotcom[slashtop/lists/100us1900s.php.

**Dislaimer:** _Twilight_, its characters, and its settings do not belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Bianca**

_July 1926_

"So I told her that I was a university student, and she believed me, even though I was fifteen at the time." The group of young men burst into raucous laughter as Ralph, an English student at Oxford who was, like William, traveling through Europe, finished his story. They were in an Italian bar in Rome – Ralph, from London; William; Peter, from Boston; Jean-Charles, from Paris; and Frederick, from Switzerland.

"You don't find it funny, William?" asked Peter, gasping for breath.

"William had an enormous love bite when I met him," said Ralph. "First thing I noticed. It's the only reason why I approached him in Paris."

The others laughed, but William merely smiled tightly. Helen. He had said he had loved her, but she had walked away. He took it to mean that she did not love him like he did her. "You've always struck me as goodie-goodie," said Peter.

"Apparently not," said Jean-Charles, snickering. Frederick snorted.

"Hey, what's that around your neck?" asked Ralph, pointing unsteadily at the charm, which William realized too late had slipped out from behind his shirt.

"It's nothing," William replied, trying to stuff it back in, but Peter stopped him.

"Will and Edward, 1926," he read. He made a face. "What's that supposed to mean?" he slurred, taking another gulp of beer.

"Who is Edward?" asked Jean-Charles.

William winced at the mentioning of Edward's name.

"Perhaps it was Edward who gave William his bruise," suggested Frederick. The others guffawed. William's lips thinned.

Ralph noticed the expression on his face and sobered slightly. "All right, you lot. Let's stop teasing William."

The others stopped laughing as well. "But who is he?" asked Peter. "Really?"

"No one," William lied, and it tore a hole in his heart to do so.

"Come on, he's got to be someone. Otherwise you wouldn't have his name 'round your neck."

Everyone leaned in intently. "He was my brother," said William, finally.

"Your brother?" repeated Jean-Charles. "Why do you have his name around your neck?"

Ralph was quiet for a moment. "Was?" he asked, finally. Jean-Charles's expression turned apologetic.

"He died." William couldn't take it anymore. "I'm going to get going now," he said, standing. "I'll see you all later."

"Oi," said Ralph, as William started toward the door. "Don't go. We didn't mean—" He stood up to stop William.

"No, I just think it's time to go to bed for me. It's been a long day."

"Don't be like that. The last thing you need to do is go wallow in misery by yourself. Come on, have a few more drinks with us."

"No, really. But thanks." William pulled away and stepped out into the warm summer night.

The streets were nearly empty. He stumbled through them, attempting to make himself seem a little more sober in case there were thieves lurking about. His world was spinning, and he leaned against a lamppost for a moment, closing his eyes.

"_Ciao_," said a cool, velvety voice next to him. "_Lei deve essersi stancato._"

William opened his eyes. A beautiful woman stood next to him. Her hair was raven black, and her eyes in the dim light looked almost burgundy. She was very pale and easily the most attractive woman he had ever seen. "I'm sorry," he rasped. "I don't understand."

"Ah. American?" she asked, her English slightly accented. "I am sorry. My name is Bianca. I was saying that you must be tired, as you are sleeping against the lamp." She smiled.

"No, just drunk," he admitted. "And lost," he added as he glanced around, realizing that he had no idea where he was.

"I can help you. Tell me where you are staying."

"At the Golden Lion Hotel on Via Nazionale."

"That is quite close. Come, I will take you there. I know of a short cut." She took his arm. William shivered. She was extremely cold to the touch.

"An alley?" he murmured, as she led him to the opening of a narrow passage between two buildings.

"Don't worry. It's safe. I always travel this way," she assured him before pulling him in. They walked in silence until she suddenly stopped.

"What? Is something wrong?" asked William.

She turned to face him, still not letting go of his arm. In the murky darkness, William imagined an almost feral expression on her face. "No, nothing is wrong," she whispered. She moved closer, and her breath was icy on his neck. It smelled wonderful, and William was entranced, unable to move even though there was a niggling little thought at the back of the mind that told him that something was terribly wrong. "You are a beautiful human," she murmured. "I have been watching you for the last few days."

William shuddered. His eyelids were growing heavy, and he felt limp, as if he was going to swoon. He felt Bianca's arms around him as his knees gave way. She lowered him slowly to the ground. "Such beauty…" she breathed. "I must."

He felt his head being pulled back slightly, exposing his neck. He knew he ought to be panicking, but strangely, all he could feel was calm. Bianca was so beautiful, and her scent was exhilarating. And then he felt a stinging pain at his neck – she was _drinking his blood_; he could see her through half-lowered eyelids. It was where Helen had left her mark, he thought vaguely.

There was blackness at the edges of his vision now, getting wider with every gulp she took. He could feel her hunger, her desire to drink all of him, but just as he was about to lose consciousness, she pulled away and kissed him on the lips. He tasted blood, his own blood. Then came the fire.

He felt himself being moved and into a house. He felt softness underneath him, a pillow being placed under his throbbing head, someone pushing his thrashing limbs down. The pain engulfed him like flames, but there was no mercy – he could not fall unconscious, although the agony caused hallucinations, and it was impossible to tell what was real and what was not.

It hurt too much to even scream; he could only writhe, feeling alternately hot and cold, or even somehow both at once. At first, he could only see the blurred outline of Bianca, watching helplessly. He had screamed then, his vocal cords finally giving way after what seemed like decades. It was then that he saw his mother. She reached out to him, her eyes sad. He tried to grab her hand, but his hand would not move. The emotional pain became physical pain, and the agony doubled.

After a while, his mother disappeared, only to be replaced by Edward. Edward, unlike their mother, spoke to him. "You weren't worth staying for," he hissed maliciously, his expression twisted and cruel. "I'm glad I left you."

_Edward_, William mouthed, unable to make any noise. His pain tripled, until there was no way it could get worse. And then it somehow, it doubled again as Edward touched his face mockingly. His hand was like a metal poker right out of the fire. "Oh, William, stop pretending," he said, mimicking what William had done when he had died.

William sobbed. _No_, he mouthed. No physical pain could match the emotional pain he was feeling now, and he wanted to die. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

Edward mocked him for what seemed like eternity. After a while, William realized that though he was sobbing, there were no tears. _No! Where are they?_ he mouthed at his brother, panicked. Edward only laughed. The feeling was unnatural – William wanted, no, _needed_ to cry, but he couldn't. _No!_ he screamed inwardly. "NO!"

His scream was raw, but audible, his vocal cords having healed. Edward disappeared, and William realized that he was shuddering and twitching, but there was no fire burning within him any longer. All that remained were the memories of the pain and an ache in his heart. There was an unnatural silence, and suddenly, he realized his heartbeat, ever present, was gone, and that he was not breathing. He began to hyperventilate, his eyes widening in horror. Every breath of air drew attention to a terrible thirst in the back of his throat. It was the only place in his body where he still burned.

"William," said Bianca from the shadows. He could see her clearly, although there was very little light. Her voice was more defined somehow and slightly drowned out by clattering and clicking noises in the background; William had to focus his hearing to know what she said. He could smell sweat, and it was overwhelming. The sheets underneath him had much more texture to them than he had ever felt.

William sat up and inched away from her. "Get away from me," he rasped, falling off the bed and getting to his feet, wobbling as he did so.

"William," she repeated, a little sadly.

"You shouldn't know my name," he muttered, his hand searching for a potential weapon.

She advanced toward him, and he stepped backwards, stumbling over something but not falling over, as he should have. "William, please."

"What have you done to me? What are you?" he demanded harshly, leaning against the doorframe for support. To his horror, a piece of wood came off in his hand. He stared at it, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

"I am what you call a vampire," said Bianca quietly.

He glanced at the sharp piece of wood in his hand. It could pass for a stake. As if she knew what he was going to say, she smiled and continued, "The legends are wrong. Vampires can only be killed by other vampires and creatures you call werewolves. We die only if torn apart – impossible if you are human – and burned to ashes. As for sunlight, we sparkle under it, which makes it imprudent to go out in the sun."

"Why? I thought humans couldn't kill you."

"No. But the Volturi can. They are the royal family of sorts of the vampires, and they enforce order. The Volturi are in Volterra, which means vampires in Italy must be more careful than others."

"What have you done to me? Why am I—"

"I knew when I first saw you last week that I wanted you with me, forever. You see, we vampires are immortal. You were beautiful for a human, already better looking than some vampires, and I knew that when you became one yourself, you would be godly. Look in the mirror, William."

William looked, despite himself. He was still recognizable, yet every flaw had been removed in his new form. His eyes were the other difference – they were scarlet, even in the darkness. "You're insane," he breathed. "You've – you've given me a hallucinogenic drug of sorts, obviously."

"I tell the truth," said Bianca. "If I were human, I would have been dead for hundreds of years. When I was human, I was married to a minor member of the Medici family, and my husband moved us to Rome right after our marriage. He was always sickly, though, and he died soon after that, leaving me pregnant and alone. And then I met Giuliano. He was very mysterious and wealthy, and he had arrived in Rome a few months prior from a place no one ever found out. He took an interest in me, strangely. Two months after we met, the baby was born dead, and I fell into a fever. When I woke from the fever and then the pain, I was like Giuliano… a vampire. He tired of me soon after that and left for Florence, and I stayed here."

William's head spun. He shook his head disbelievingly. She moved toward him. "No! Stay away!" he shouted, pushing her. She sailed through the air, crashing against the wall. He stared at his hands, wide-eyed, as she stood slowly, her expression pained. "I—" He turned and ran, his thoughts pounding in his brain.

As soon as he stepped out into the small, narrow street, a smell hit his nose. It was irresistible, and it came from all directions. "William!" shouted Bianca behind him, stumbling out. "Don't, I'll bring you—"

The thirst in his throat intensified, and he growled, his mind becoming a red haze. It was late at night, and there was one trail of scent that stood out from the rest, which were all slightly stale. This one, and William wasn't sure how he knew, was fresh. He began to follow it, shaking Bianca off as he began to run, an animal-like snarl forming in his throat.

It ended in another narrow street, with a young man. _Ralph_, what was left of William's mind told him, but the other part crushed it. Ralph was stumbling, clearly drunk. "William?" he mumbled, and every bit of breath out of his mouth stoked the fire in William's throat more. "William, we've been searching for three days; where have you been?"

William couldn't take it anymore. He pounced on Ralph in the middle of the street, a growl escaping from his throat, and bit down hard on the other man's throat. The liquid that came out was sweet, better than anything he had ever tasted before, and he drank greedily, mangling the body of his victim. He sucked every last drop of the heavenly liquid out and let go of the body. It fell to the ground with a thud.

And then the horror set in. Ralph's eyes were still open, but they were empty. He had a surprised expression on his bloodless face. William looked down; his hands and clothes were covered in blood. The liquid had been _blood_. "Oh, God," he croaked. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…" He knelt down and shook his friend, but Ralph did not respond. The worst feeling was that William knew he ought to feel like retching, but all he could feel was satisfaction.

"William, there are people coming," said Bianca gently, pulling him away. "Unless if you want the Volturi after us…"

"I killed him," he whispered, only slightly aware that she was leading him back toward to the room. "I killed him."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So... William is now a vampire, and he's killed Ralph! gasp

I had this author's note all typed out, and then my internet browser went back a page, which meant I lost all of it. sigh Anyway, Bianca's history is one I couldn't resist putting in. I've always been interested in the Medici during the Renaissance -- the Borgia are nothing compared to them. The Medici ruled over Florence at the time; however, there was usually a Medici presence in Rome as well -- the Pope was often one, so it's quite possible that there would be other members of the Medici, like Bianca's husband, situated there. Bianca's past is not all that important, in any case.

Apologies to any speakers of Italian for that line. I do not know any Italian, so that is the result of an online translator.

I have no idea if there was ever a hotel called the Golden Lion on Via Nazionale in 1926. I've only been to Rome once, and was never really paying attention to the streets. Via Nazionale is a street, and it existed in 1926, but if it is lined with government buildings or something, let's pretend there was a hotel on it in the first half of the twentieth century, shall we?

Please review; I'll respond to all signed ones, as always. They'll be a nice distraction.

And, your favorite part of the end-of-chapter notes, from a second Edward interlude (yay!):

_I could not go back to Carlisle and Esme. The guilt consumed me, but I could not even harm myself. I ought to have died for my actions – they had been criminal. Worse than criminal; they had resulted in my brother's death. I had murdered my brother. I was a monster._

Monsters should act like monsters_, my grief-crazed mind thought._

_That night, I drank from my first human, a man who had just shot and killed his brother._


	7. Interlude, Part One: Edward

**Author's Note:** So I usually update on Sundays, but since tomorrow, I will have job training for eight hours, I feel that it would be better for me to put up the next interlude beforehand. Besides, it's a very short chapter, so I suppose I'll be nice and give it to you early to make up for its length slightly. Nevertheless, this interlude is very important, and I'm sure some of you will be very excited to hear that this is the last chapter/interlude before we jump to the present. Also, I'm rereading the series, so that ought to motivate me to write more (I am currently writing chapter eight of this fic).

As always, thanks so much to my reviewers from last chapter. Hope you like this one too!

**Disclaimer:**_ Twilight_ and its characters and settings do not belong to me.

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**Interlude, Part One: Edward**

_April 1927_

Nine years after my transformation, Carlisle reluctantly allowed me to travel to New York City by myself and see if Will had done what I had intended for him to do by sending him the charm back. In part, it was because he wanted to have some time with Esme for a while, which I understood. And I had very good control for a vampire of my age; he knew I could restrain myself long enough to get away from the source of the scent should any blood be spilled around me.

I looked forward to seeing my brother grown older and finally happy after finding closure from the adventure we should have taken together. Perhaps he had a girlfriend. Perhaps he had finally been able to stand up to Henry by himself. I wanted a quick glimpse of that life, and that would keep me happy even if I never got to see him again.

My aunt and uncle's house looked just as it had when I had come with Carlisle eight years before. There was a window open on the first floor. I glanced around, making sure no one was looking out their windows, then darted through it, landing without a sound in the kitchen. I crept out into the hallway, avoiding the voices in the sitting room. I felt exhilarated – this was far more risky than Carlisle would have ever allowed, but I was certain my speed would allow me to escape should I be discovered.

I went upstairs and listened carefully through William's bedroom door. There was no sound from within, so I entered, closing the door silently behind me. It was slightly dusty, which I found strange, but otherwise, the room was meticulously clean. A Yale pennant hung on the wall, and I realized that was probably why this room seemed to be uninhabited. There was a photograph on the otherwise empty desk. It was of a young man that looked like me – William, I realized with a jolt – and a pretty light-haired girl.

There were voices outside, startling me. I had been engrossed in staring at the photograph. Quickly, I considered my options. There was a window, but curiosity got the better of me when I heard William's name. I shut myself in the closet.

"… not healthy to keep on going on like this," said a woman I did not know. Behind her was Aunt Lillian, who looked much older than I remembered. "You have to let go." _It's terrible what Lillian's gone through_, she thought.

"But…"

"I know he was like your son, but you have to. Convert this room to something else." _Poor thing_.

"Percy says I should too. But… oh, Marie, it's just… well, they never – found him. What if he finds his way back home one day?" _Please let that happen._

"Lillian, dear, they found his friend brutally murdered. It has been a year. If he's still alive…"

"I just wish I never suggested the trip to him. Oh, if I hadn't, he would be at school right now."

"Some things are meant to be." Marie put a hand on her friend's shaking shoulders. "The poor family. All dead young." _William was such a nice boy_.

_Dead_. Until then, I hadn't realized who or what they were talking about. I should have, but my mind had been protecting me. I felt a growing sense of horror, and my body felt as if it weighed a ton, while my head felt weightless.

"He's with his family now, though. I should be thankful for that," sobbed Aunt Lillian. She and her friend left, closing the door after them.

I stumbled out of the closet, my breaths coming in short gasps. I felt numb. _Dead_. On the trip he had taken after receiving my charm. I opened the window and jumped out before starting to run. I didn't know where I was going until I crossed a bridge and reached a graveyard that my subconscious mind knew. I moved slowly through the rows of graves until I reached the one I sought. _William Robert Masen_ – _1907-1926_.

I sank down onto the grass in front of the headstone, shuddering. It was a moment before I realized that I was weeping. I had never cried in the time since I'd become a vampire, and the experience was a strange one, but I did not dwell on that fact. I could not even shed tears for my brother.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, even though I knew he wasn't actually there. His body was elsewhere, wherever he had gone missing. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there, and I wasn't."

_Beloved nephew and friend_, his headstone said. But never "brother." Because he had died not knowing that he was a beloved brother still. I threw my head back and screamed to the darkening sky.

I could not go back to Carlisle and Esme. The guilt consumed me, but I could not even harm myself. I ought to have died for my actions – they had been criminal. Worse than criminal; they had resulted in my brother's death. I had murdered my brother. I was a monster.

_Monsters should act like monsters_, my grief-crazed mind thought.

That night, I drank from my first human, a man who had just shot and killed his brother.

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**Author's Note: **What do you think? Hehe.

The end of this chapter is the beginning of Edward's human-drinking years; I realized as I was writing this fic that the time frame worked out perfectly. The article on Edward on Twilight Lexicon says that his rebellious stage took place from 1927 to 1931... and this chapter takes place in 1927. So I gave him an excuse.

What's funny is that while I was writing this chapter, I suddenly realized that Edward could hear other people's thoughts, which I had completely forgotten about. So I had to go through this interlude and the previous one to include thoughts. Luckily, I hadn't posted anything yet while I was writing this. Edward gives me so much trouble, gah.

Please review!

The next chapter is part two of the interlude, featuring a character you've all been waiting for:

_"Edward," I murmured. "It's not your fault." I reached for him, but he pulled away._

_"Bella, you don't understand. I promised him that I would be there for him always, but I ended up getting him killed. For four years after I found out, I drank human blood, knowing that I was a monster and unable to go back and face Carlisle. I shouldn't have meddled in my brother's life; I know he was healing well before I threw the past back into his life with that charm."_


	8. Interlude, Part Two: Bella

**Author's Note:** I originally had a different route for this interlude (which the excerpt from last chapter comes from), but I changed my mind before I posted this and re-wrote the interlude. It makes certain events later on in this fic a whole lot more dramatic, I think, and the plot becomes more complex. This interlude is important, mainly because it marks the jump in time (there's a second jump after this chapter, but it's a much smaller one -- only about a year), but now that what happens has changed, it also explains a discrepancy between this fic and _Twilight_ that I discovered while rereading the series (I am now about a third of the way through _New Moon_, which is good timing, because Jacob and the werewolves will be making an appearance in a few chapters).

Thanks to all the reviewers from last chapter, as always! Hope you like this chapter... it's a little dry, but it's important, and a lot of you have been waiting a long time to see this character...

**Disclaimer:** I still do not own _Twilight_, its characters, or its settings.

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**Interlude, Part Two: Bella**

_February 2007_

It's always hard to read what Edward is thinking, especially if he doesn't want other people to know. And by other people, I mean me. Somehow, he feels the need to protect me still, despite the fact that I am just as strong as he is now, and he thinks that keeping his thoughts from me will do that.

I would go as far to say that isn't fair. After all, _he_ can read other people's minds; if the world was fair, people ought to be able to read his mind too. Then again, maybe it was just me that couldn't read him. Maybe he wasn't deliberately trying to keep me in the dark – maybe I'm just really unobservant. In that case, the universe is being terribly fair. An eye for an eye, a mind for a mind, or lack thereof, I guess.

My vampire gift is related to that idea. Before, I had been unaffected by any power that went for the mind. When I became a vampire, we quickly discovered that, depending on how strong the mind attack was, I could block it and store some of it to use myself. On my first day as a vampire, Edward tried to read my mind, even though he knew it was pointless. Instead, I found myself reading _his_ mind for a few seconds. After a while, we realized that I could control when I would use the power; it wasn't just like a mirror effect. Jasper and Emmett likened me to a character in one of the videogames they liked to play.

But I would have given anything sometimes to just have the power to read Edward's mind – although I had read his mind that one time, he was careful not to try to read mine again.

He sat on the edge of the bed that we now had in our room, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight as he stared off into space. The entire day, he had been distracted, and I couldn't figure out why. The only thing I could think of was that box I had knocked down from his nightstand that morning – I was still much clumsier than other vampires – but what did that have to do with anything? It had been unharmed, as far as I had seen.

I wrapped my arms around him, kissing the side of his neck. His skin was no longer like marble to me, as we were both the same temperature and state now. "Tell me what's wrong."

He started. "There's nothing wrong." He smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes.

"You say that every time you get like this. Edward, I need to know; it's driving me crazy. It hurts to see you like this."

He sighed, then turned, kissing me roughly. I pushed him away. "Don't try to distract me. I won't fall for it. I want to know. I _need_ to know."

He stood, and for a moment, I thought he was mad at me. But he crossed to the opposite side of the room and retrieved the box, which he had placed on his dresser to keep it safe from my flailing arms or whatever posed a danger to it. "I… after I was changed, I forgot a lot about my past. More than most vampires do. Carlisle wouldn't tell me why, but he gave me this box and said that when I was ready to know what I had forgotten, I should open it. Well, obviously, I opened it as soon as he gave it to me, but there was nothing in it. Or so I thought."

He smiled at me, then continued. "When you knocked the box over, it knocked the false bottom out. Carlisle knew, probably, that it would be many years before that would happen. He knew that I wouldn't be the one to knock it over by accident – the box was too precious to me – but he depended on the theory that someone close to me would eventually do so. And Carlisle being as clever as he is, he knew that if I had someone that close to me, I would be ready to see what was in the box. I would have a crutch to lean against.

"After you went off" – I grinned sheepishly, remembering my earlier mortification and fear that Edward would be angry – "I was putting the box on the dresser when I heard a clanking sound from inside." He opened up the box and slowly removed the now loosened piece of wood at the bottom. "I found this photograph in the box."

He handed it to me. It was a yellowed black and white photograph. There were four people in it: I recognized a younger Edward immediately. "This is my mother," he said sadly, pointing at a beautiful woman. "And my father." He was a handsome man, and Edward's features resembled his. "I… I don't know who that is." This last sentence was a whisper. He gestured at the young boy next to him in the picture. The other boy was about six to eight years younger than Edward, and there was a definite resemblance. "I feel ashamed, Bella," he added in an anguished tone. "I know in my heart that I should know who he is, but I don't."

"You could ask Carlisle," I suggested, taking his hand. He did not look at me. Instead, he kept his suffering eyes fixated on the photograph, on the young boy he could not remember.

"I cannot," he replied simply. "Bella, I can't." He turned to face me, and his eyes were pained now. "I have to figure this out on my own; this shouldn't be someone I don't remember, I know that." His tone was unshakable, and I knew it was no use arguing. "I feel like if I have to ask Carlisle, I will have failed."

"Edward…"

He stood abruptly, his expression suddenly closed. My heart clenched. I hated that expression; it always reminded me of when he had left me. "I'm going out for a run," he murmured, dressing hurriedly.

"I'll come with you."

"No." He smiled at me, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I need some time alone."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he pushed me back down on the bed and kissed me roughly, leaving me half-senseless. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't, how he had such an effect on me still. By the time I had recovered, he was already far away.

I sat up and scowled. If he was going to do that… a sudden burst of inspiration hit me, and I dressed quickly, making my way to Carlisle's office with the photograph. I could hear movement behind the door, so I knocked and entered.

"Bella," said Carlisle, slightly surprised. He sat at his desk, examining a large medical tome. "What can I do for you?"

I dove straight in. "Carlisle, who is this boy in the photograph?"

Carlisle did not even have to glance at the picture to know what I was talking about. "Ah," was all he said. His expression was unreadable, and he sighed. "Sit down, Bella."

I sat. "I assume you were the one who knocked the box down," he continued. I nodded, and he smiled slightly, though his eyes were worried. "And Edward did not remember immediately upon seeing the photograph?" I shook my head. "I see. I suppose the protections his mind put up are stronger than I thought. I had anticipated him remembering immediately."

"Protections?" I repeated.

Carlisle's face was grim. "Bella, you must not tell Edward what I am about to tell you. I only tell you because I feel you have a right to know, as Edward's wife, but telling him will rob him of any satisfaction of figuring things out on his own, and that will make the situation worse. He will feel as if he cheated if you tell him."

"I won't tell him," I promised. I knew full well how Edward felt guilty about things he shouldn't have felt guilty over.

"The boy in the picture is William Masen. He was Edward's younger brother by a little over six years, and Edward doted on him when they were both alive."

"His brother?" Edward's words early in our relationship echoed through my head. _I was alone. That was why he chose me. In all the chaos of the epidemic, no one would ever realize I was gone_. "Did he… did he die from the Spanish Influenza?"

"No," said Carlisle. "He did not die until after Edward." He noted the confusion in my expression and continued quickly. "You see, when William and Edward were young, Edward promised William they would one day travel together, a sort of adventure. Edward promised his brother he would always be there for him. Unfortunately, that was not to be.

"From William's perspective, Edward died from influenza in 1918, when William was ten years old. He was sent off to live with his aunt and uncle and cousin in New York City. After a year, Edward wanted to check up on his brother, and he did so under my hesitant supervision. The day Edward was following William, William attempted to remove the last vestiges of his past from his life: he threw a charm, on which the young Edward had carved his promise, and the photograph in your hands into the sea.

"Edward recovered the objects and kept them for the next seven years. When William was eighteen, the year they were supposed to go on their adventure, he sent the charm to William. A year later, he visited his aunt's house again to see how his brother fared, hoping that the trip had healed his brother."

"Did it?" I asked.

Carlisle shook his head sadly. "The point is irrelevant. William Masen had been killed in Europe, and Edward blamed himself for his brother's death. He saw his brother's lost future – William had been headed to Yale, and he had been involved with a young woman named Helen Trellis. After finding out what happened, Edward couldn't face me or even himself. He disappeared for a while, and Esme and I worried.

"He eventually came back, after a few years. He admitted to having drunk human blood, but that wasn't what worried me. It was the fact that after those years, he had no recollection he had ever had a brother."

"Oh," I gasped. I could almost feel the guilt and grief Edward had felt, the madness that had overtaken him.

"His mind was protecting him, erasing his memories. When I realized what had happened, I hid the photograph in the box, knowing that when he was ready, he would find the photograph again and remember. He wasn't ready then, and telling him that he had a brother would have just sent him backwards. But you say he does not remember." He sighed. "I suppose we will have to wait, then. I know he will remember eventually, and you must help him realize that nothing was his fault when he does remember. He will be ashamed he ever forgot, and furthermore, he will feel the guilt that first drove him to madness."

"Carlisle…"

He smiled gently at me. "You will help him through this, I'm sure. I know he's ready to remember, because you are here now." The front door opened and closed downstairs. Both of us had heard it, but as he was used to my being a human, Carlisle added, "Edward's home."

I smiled at him and rushed back to the room Edward and I shared, making sure it looked as if I hadn't left the room during his absence. He entered, frowning to himself, and sat down at the edge of the bed with a sigh. "I should remember."

"It's nothing that you should feel guilty about," I said, linking my arms around his neck and breathing in his scent. "It's not your fault. Your mind is protecting you. I bet," I added, in case he thought I had been poking around where I shouldn't have been.

"It is something to feel guilty about," he retorted. "I should remember," he continued, frustration mounting as he stood up again. "I should!"

I thought about William and what had happened the last time Edward had found out he was dead. It was clear that I would have to prepare myself for something terribly noble and well-intentioned, but totally irrational. "Edward," I whispered, standing up and wrapping my arms around his stiff waist. He relaxed slightly, but not enough. "Don't do this to yourself. When you are ready, you'll remember."

"When I'm ready," he muttered bitterly. I winced. He hardly ever used that tone around me. He noticed my reaction, and his stormy expression faded. "I'm upsetting you, aren't I?"

If it had been anything else, I would have snapped back that he ought to stop worrying about me. But in this case, it was far better for him to be fixated on overprotecting me, rather than for him to be worrying about William. At least worrying about me could give him a little bit of satisfaction when he saw me happy again. I pouted for effect, and he melted.

Maybe I wasn't so bad at reading Edward Cullen after all.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, what do you think? I'm sorry for totally screwing up Bella, haha... I don't feel as if I can ever get her tone right, because it's completely unclassifiable to me. But hopefully, you're all happy enough just because she's finally showed up in this fic.

Originally, I had Edward remembering Will and moping about it, and there was no conversation with Carlisle. The interlude was also about half this length, and of course, it meant that Edward was lying to Bella in _Twilight_ (the bit in which Bella remembers a moment in their early relationship is taken from their conversation in Chapter Fourteen, pg. 288). I couldn't have that, so I rewrote the interlude. We also see a bit of Edward's personality in Carlisle... like Edward in _New Moon_, Carlisle thinks he knows best. : ) Of course, he was probably a better judge than Edward was.

Apologies for the summary of the story so far, although summaries do help sometimes.

Please review! Reviews make me happy (and last chapter didn't have as many as before, which I guess is understandable, since the chapter was only about two pages on MS Word).

Excerpt:

_The other vampire froze and twitched, as if turning to leave, but then seemed to resist the urge. "So you are William," he said smoothly, in English. "Aro said that would be your gift."_

Aro._ The name sounded familiar. "Who are you? How do you know who I am?"_

_ "My name is Demetri." The other vampire stepped out of the shadows and into a gloomy shaft of light. He became clearer to William. Demetri wore a gray cloak over plain clothes, and his dark hair was wavy, framing an olive toned but pale-skinned face. "I am a guard of the Volturi."_

So... what is William's gift, and why are the Volturi in Rome? Find out next time..._  
_


	9. The Volturi

**Author's Note:** So, yeah, a bit early, but I've been having a really crappy day/week, and I need reviews to cheer me up. Hope this cheers you all up too. The response to the last chapter was a bit less than I expected, though, but I'm happy to have received the reviews I did. Thanks, guys, and sorry for whining. : )

I finished re-reading _New Moon_ and am on the first few chapters of _Eclipse_. It's a good thing I re-read _New Moon_, though, because I totally messed up something in this chapter, and I managed to fix it before posting it. I'll let you know what it was at the end of the chapter. More good news for this fic, though: I've finished several more installments, because I've started writing this fic again in my free time (meaning between the hours of one and two in the morning, when I've finished my homework but don't feel like going to bed).

It's a Friday night, so I feel completely anti-social posting this now, but in my defense, I do have stuff planned for later tonight. Hopefully that turns out better than the rest of today. Heh.

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_, related characters and settings, and everything else like that still do not belong to me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in college right now; I'd be happily writing full-time.

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**Chapter Six: The Volturi**

_January 2008_

The young couple strolling down the street, hand in hand, drew the envious stares of many tourists walking by them. Both were pale and inhumanly attractive: the woman was slender, with lustrous curly black hair and pouting lips, and the man was tall and slim, his honey-colored hair waving in the slight breeze. They were well dressed, although strangely; both wore sunglasses even though it was cloudy.

William paid the tourists no attention. He was used to being stared at by now. Next to him, Bianca sighed and removed her hand from his, placing it possessively around his waist. He let her, draping his arm casually around her shoulders. "_I can never get used to all the staring, not even after four hundred years_," she said under her breath, in Italian.

He chuckled. "_You say that every time we go out. You are very vain, Bianca_."

"_Hardly. It is you that is vain. You seem to expect it, as if you are entitled to it, when in fact, we both know you are nothing special_," she teased.

"Nothing special, huh?" he replied in English, smirking. "I'll show you nothing special." He pulled her into an alley and pushed her against the wall, kissing her passionately.

They broke apart. "And you were so proper in the beginning," she said, giggling. "_Such a gentleman_."

"_I have to go with the times_." He kissed her again. "_And the times now dictate embraces like these. I'm being proper by doing this in an alley, rather than in a public square like we ought to be._"

"_I love you_," she whispered. She looked hopeful.

He closed his eyes behind his sunglasses. Bianca rarely said it, because she had come to realize that he would not say it back. Every time, he would be drawn back into a past he wanted to forget, to the memories of his human life. Helen had never said it back. And remembering Helen always led to remembering _him_. William did not know why he was still plagued by memories of his brother ninety years after his death. He opened his eyes.

Bianca looked pained. "I think I need to feed soon," she muttered. "I— we should separate and wait for nightfall." She slipped away.

William swore under his breath. The truth was he wasn't sure how he felt about Bianca. He was fond of her, and he found her beautiful, but he could never tell her he loved her. _Perhaps it's because you don't_, a nasty voice in his head told him. _She transformed you_. But that couldn't be it. He definitely felt something every time they kissed, every time they made love. _Made love_, he thought. _That's it. You can't call it that if there isn't love_.

Sighing, he glanced around and started. There was another person at the other end of the alley, hidden in the shadows. He sniffed the air. It was a distinctly vampire scent. A growl escaped from the back of his throat as he moved toward the other vampire, who also came closer. "_This is my territory_," he snapped. "_If you're here to hunt, you'll have to leave_." He and Bianca could not be held accountable if the Volturi came calling just because some strange vampire had made a mistake while hunting on their land. He focused his mind. _Get out_, he thought fiercely. _Get off of our land_.

The other vampire froze and twitched, as if turning to leave, but then seemed to resist the urge. "So you are William," he said smoothly, in English. "Aro said that would be your gift."

_Aro_. The name sounded familiar. "Who are you? How do you know who I am?"

"My name is Demetri." The other vampire stepped out of the shadows and into a gloomy shaft of light. He became clearer to William. Demetri wore a gray cloak over plain clothes, and his dark hair was wavy, framing an olive toned but pale-skinned face. "I am a guard of the Volturi."

The Volturi. William tensed. "We haven't done anything wrong."

Demetri laughed. "Stop worrying. I am not here to enforce the law. No, actually, I do wonder – do you remember, perhaps, a female vampire passing through here a few months ago? Herding away humans?" William scanned his memory. "You and your mate chased her away." He did remember a beautiful, strange vampire on their territory. "That was Heidi, our hunter. She grew bored of our usual hunting grounds and decided to see what Rome had to offer. When she came back, empty-handed except for a fascinating tale about a vampire who could force others to act out his will, Aro, Caius, and Marcus's interest was piqued." He smiled wryly. "Well, Aro and Caius's, at least."

"So what are you here for?" William asked finally, his mind whirling. They had chased away one of the Volturi guard…

Demetri smiled. "I can hear the anxiety in your voice. It is not necessary to worry, as I said before. My masters are interested in you, very much so, to put it bluntly. They sent me to persuade you to come to Volterra, so that they can see your gift for themselves."

William remembered what Bianca had told him about the Volturi. _They seek out those with valuable gifts and offer them positions within the guard_, she had said. _They do not force you to join them, but once they know of you, you risk them thinking you a threat, unless if you are clearly on their side.__ I worry for you, my William. Your gift is potent._

"We, of course, will not force you to join us, just like I will not force you to come with me," continued Demetri, but the meaning behind the words was clear. It was as Bianca had said. The Volturi would feel threatened by a power like his. If he was lucky, they would decide to leave him alone, as he was just one vampire. If not, he was powerful, but not powerful enough to take on the entire guard and the Volturi themselves. He had heard terrible things about what they could do. There was only one option.

"If I came with you, what would happen to Bianca?"

Demetri frowned. "Your mate? Nothing. She would be invited to live with us. There are many mates of the guards that do not have powers or extraordinary physical prowess. They all live in Volterra, as civil vampires like the rest of us." There was a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. "Does she have a gift as well?"

"No, she does not," William replied firmly, so that there could be no doubt.

"Shame. I assume you will be coming, though?"

William nodded. "I will have to tell Bianca first."

"There is no hurry. I will be staying in Rome; I will find you in three days." Demetri smiled thinly when William tensed. "Don't worry. I will be inconspicuous. I am a Volturi guard, remember?"

The only sound in the room was the slow ticking of the clock in the corner. William and Bianca sat silently on the sofa in the middle. It, apart from them, the clock, and the suitcases, was the only thing left in the apartment. They had lived in the apartment for thirty years, having bought it in the seventies; the good thing about living in a city without a landlord was that everyone moved around too much to realize that two of their neighbors did not age.

William reached over tentatively and took Bianca's hand, rubbing his thumb against it. She did not respond, but instead stayed as she was, her head bowed, staring at the floor. The buzzer went off, and he stood to answer it.

"It's me. Demetri," said the cool voice on the other end.

"We will be down in a minute," William replied. He released the button next to the speaker and moved toward his suitcase. "Bianca, it's time to go."

She nodded and started to move robotically, gathering her things. He sighed. "It'll be all right. You'll see."

"I worry for you," she whispered, turning, her expression pained. "It is dangerous, working for the Volturi. Your life is forfeit to their whim, and your tasks that you must perform for them are perilous."

He touched her face, his heart aching to see her so unhappy, before turning to go downstairs. She followed listlessly, shutting the door behind them with finality. It was their apartment, but both knew they were never coming back.

Demetri waited outside next to a black Ferrari, gleaming in the lamplight. Both he and the car were drawing stares, but he paid them no attention. Vampires that prided themselves on being "civilized" liked being flashy, and it seemed that the Volturi were no exception. "Ah, William. A pleasure to see you again. And this must be Bianca." He opened the door for them, and they slid in.

_Very lovely_, said a voice in William's head, and he jumped.

The vampire sitting at the wheel of the car laughed. "That is my gift. I can relay thoughts. Although I cannot hear others' thoughts, I can send my own, which is quite useful in a tight situation. Not as useful as yours, though. Demetri will get your suitcases. We will be in Volterra in a couple of hours, assuming we are able to drive at a good speed the entire time."

He was bulky and muscular, with the same olive but pale skin as Demetri. His hair, though, was cropped short. "This is Felix, also a guard," said Demetri, who had returned from getting their things, as he got into the passenger seat. Felix grinned. "Felix, William and Bianca."

"Bianca and I have met before," said Felix silkily. "It was perhaps two centuries ago?" He grinned into the rearview mirror.

"Two centuries, yes," said Bianca coldly.

"She was in Volterra to see Giuliano," continued Felix. "She missed him. Well, of course, he was interested in Heidi back then – this was, of course, before you came, Demetri. I comforted her, didn't I, Bianca?"

Bianca snarled. "Enough," said Demetri. "Felix, just drive."

"I apologize for my vulgar behavior," said Felix stiffly, sensing Demetri's ire. _You are a lucky man_, he sneered at William. William scowled.

"Giuliano is dead," Bianca said softly. "He died for the Volturi. It is useless to bring him up."

"A shame," said Demetri. "His power was useful. To be able to tell if someone was telling the truth… even Aro can be fooled if one is able to plant false memories into one's head." He glanced back at them. "But you have William now."

"I have William," she agreed, her eyes downcast.

William turned away to look out the window. They had to be traveling at least 140 kilometers per hour on a motorway with a 100 kilometer per hour limit. Outside, the dark Italian landscape was calm. There were no other cars, as it was late at night, and they were outside of the outskirts of Rome by now.

"So," said Demetri, after about fifteen minutes of silence. "As we are to work together, tell me about yourself, William."

"There's not much to tell," said William. "I have lived in Rome with Bianca since I became a vampire."

"But surely you are not Italian. You sound American."

"I was." William gritted his teeth, unable to say more.

"I see that you do not wish to speak of your past," said Demetri tactfully. "Well, as for me, I am Greek. I was… discovered in 1821, during the wars of independence. I was especially good at finding things as a human… detecting enemies. I rose through the ranks of the rebels quickly. But I fell during battle, and an Ottoman vampire saved me. Ironic, no? He saw my potential gift then and delivered me to the Volturi. We vampires clearly have no human ties."

"What is your gift?" asked William.

"You can loosely apply the term 'tracker' to me now, though I would argue I am no mere tracker. My ability to find anything is a thousand times greater than anyone else's." He smiled. "That is how I found you, of course. Felix is Corsican, turned perhaps thirty years before I was. His gift is quite useful, as you probably have figured out."

Felix grinned, his expression taunting. "But you, William. Perhaps you are hiding something. Why will you not talk about your past? We are being perfectly open."

Demetri glared at him. "It is suspicious, Demetri," said Felix defensively, in response to whatever Demetri had thought. "If he tries to hide something now, who knows what he will hide later? We cannot have treachery in our ranks. I am merely protecting our masters."

"Don't be ridic—" began Demetri, but William cut him off.

"I was transformed in 1926. When I was eighteen. Before that, I lived in New York." He growled. "Enough for you?"

"Perfect," said Felix, his smile glinting in the rearview mirror. Clearly, he had been trying to rile William up. William sat back, seething. Beside him, Bianca gave him a concerned look. He realized he had never even told _her_ about his life before the transformation. Absentmindedly, he pulled his charm out from behind his shirt and rubbed it. He didn't even know why he had kept it, all these years. It probably wasn't even the real one, as he had thrown the real one into the river. Bianca had watched him do this countless times, yet she knew enough never to ask him about it.

An hour later, they arrived at the outskirts of Volterra. Felix navigated the Ferrari through the narrow streets, finally parking it on the side of the road. "We have arrived," announced Demetri, leading them to a covered hole in the ground. One by one, they dropped underground, into a dank, dark chamber.

Demetri led the way as they ran quickly through the passageway. William took Bianca's hand, and she let him, although she did not look up at him. Felix brought up the rear. They went deeper underground, although it got lighter as they descended. Finally, they reached a metal grate. There was a door open that led past the grate, and there was a second, wooden door behind it. They went through, and Demetri opened the wooden door, flooding the chamber with light.

The room beyond the door was thoroughly unremarkable. They entered an elevator, getting off at some kind of reception area. A receptionist – a _human_ receptionist, William realized, confused – sat behind a desk. She rose as they entered, beaming. "Gianna," said Felix, smirking.

"Aro is expecting you," Gianna said, giving Felix a coquettish smile in return. "He said to go in as soon as you arrived."

"Thank you," said Demetri.

Gianna turned to face William. "Have we met before?" she asked.

"I don't think so." William had never left Rome after his transformation, and there was no way Gianna could have met him in America.

"We must hurry, William, if Aro is expecting us," urged Demetri, already halfway through another door. William nodded, and he and Bianca followed the other two vampires down yet another corridor, although this one was ornate.

They finally emerged in a large, circular room. "Demetri! Felix!" exclaimed a voice at the end of the hall. William turned to see a vampire with papery thin skin and long, inky black hair gliding toward them. "And I see that you have brought William and his mate. You are William, of course?"

"Yes, I am."

"I am Aro, of the Volturi," said the vampire, beaming. "Your gift interests me greatly – how wonderful it must be, to be able to control others. I daresay… may we have a demonstration?"

During Aro's greeting, several other vampires had entered the room. Two were ancient, like Aro; they must have been Caius and Marcus. The other two, William was surprised to see, were children, both cherubic-looking and seeming as if they were twins. "Caius, Marcus, Jane, and Alec," said Aro, waving at each vampire as he introduced them. Caius, Jane, and Alec nodded, but Marcus's expression did not change, nor did he move an inch. "Now, as I was saying, a demonstration would be lovely. Perhaps you could try it on Felix?"

Felix gritted his teeth but nodded. "What should I do?" William asked Aro, lost.

"Anything you please. Short of killing him, though, for he is a valuable guard."

"Make him dance; he hates being made a fool of," suggested Demetri in a low voice only William could hear.

William hesitated, wondering if it was wise to anger Felix, but decided it was worth it. He had been extremely insulting in the car. _Spin around the room, doing pirouettes_, he urged. _Spin and pirouette. Spin and pirouette. Spin and pirou—_

Felix's face had grown increasingly twisted as he resisted the command, but finally, his mind gave up, and he began to spin around the room, unmistakably attempting to do ballet. Aro laughed gleefully, almost childishly, and Demetri snorted. Jane and Alec giggled. Bianca smirked, and even Caius smiled indulgently. Only Marcus remained impassive. _Stop_, William thought, and Felix desisted mid-spin. He turned back around, his eyes furious.

"Delightful," said Aro, his smile even larger. "And you agree to join us, William? Your gift will help enormously to keep order in this world. Especially against newborn vampires, I would think, as they rely solely on instinct. They would snap to your orders."

William nodded. He had no other choice. After the demonstration, the Volturi were sure to think him a threat if he did not.

Aro beamed. "I am very glad," he said. He studied William for a moment. "I wonder…" He held out a chalky-white hand. "May I?"

William blinked, confounded. _Touch his hand_, said Felix, sounding slightly smug that William had no idea what was going on. Clearly, he had been insulted by the demonstration. William reached forward, not sure what was going to happen. Their skin made contact.

Memories jolted through his head. Bianca, Rome, humans he had fed on, his transformation, Aunt Lillian, Uncle Percy, Henry, Helen, _Edward_… It hurt so much as memory after memory of Edward surfaced, almost as if William were being forced to relive them. There was an alien presence in his mind, and it became extremely interested and excited upon seeing these memories.

Suddenly, the memories stopped flashing through his head. William found himself on all fours on the ground, his breathing ragged. He had no idea how he had got there. He got to his feet unsteadily. The others were all staring at him; Aro had a curious expression on his face. William could almost see the cogs in his head turning, although he did not know why.

"Aro's power allows him to hear your thoughts and see your memories if he touches you," said Demetri.

_But no one has ever reacted like that. Perhaps it is because your memories are painful_, added Felix, clearly relishing the thought.

"What is that little wooden charm?" Aro asked, motioning at the tiny ship, which was hanging out. "I saw it in your memories. May I see it?"

William hesitated but handed over the necklace. "Will and Edward, 1926," Aro read, his expression unreadable. Jane glanced at William, and a light came into her eyes. Caius's mouth thinned. "I see." The ancient vampire placed the necklace gingerly around William's neck again. He knew something William didn't, that was for sure. "Demetri, I nearly forgot. Remember Bella? Caius, we must send someone to check that the Cullens have kept their end of the bargain." The name "Cullen" sounded familiar to William, but he couldn't place it. "She was very promising; if she is turned, you must bring all the Cullens here. It's time they visited, anyway. Felix, you must go with Demetri. And the two of you, bring William. William, this will be your first task for us."

"If she is not turned, kill her," Caius hissed. "She must not be allowed to live with our secrets."

"Theirs is a large clan, and they will not be pleased if she dies," murmured Felix.

"Well, if there is a need to dispose of her, you can contact Jane," said Aro regretfully, as if he fervently hoped it would not come to that. "But Bella obviously wished to become a vampire, so I very much doubt they have disregarded us." He turned to William. "I shall need your services immediately. Say goodbye to your mate and check up on Bella with Demetri and Felix."

It was all so sudden. William still wasn't sure what was going on. "Just say "Yes, Master," and I'll explain some of it later," instructed Demetri in a low murmur.

William obeyed. "Yes, Master," he said. The words sounded strange on his tongue.

* * *

**Author's Note:** The thing I messed up was Demetri's power. Originally, Demetri was the one who was able to transmit thoughts to others, and Felix could see what people were doing at the moment (sort of like Alice's gift, but with the present instead of the future). It's a little ironic, because in _New Moon_, Edward explains that Demetri is the one with the tracking power, so then I switched it around.

Ah, Aro. I quite like him, actually. I feel like he's a very friendly guy, apart from the fact that he drinks human blood and all that. I can't see him as a real villain, really. Caius, on the other hand...

Anyway, please review! It'll make my day (er, night) much brighter.

_They fell silent. Finally, Demetri spoke again. "It is extremely frustrating that I cannot find her."_

_ Felix nodded. "Perhaps we ought to try one of the Cullens after all," he said, resigned. William looked around, feeling uneasy for some reason. Every so often, a car would pass, and its occupants would stare at them. But there was a group of tall, muscular-looking men, all with cropped black hair, except for one, who wore his shaggy and long, standing across the street in the grocery store's parking lot. And all of them were watching – no, glaring – at the three vampires._

Sorry for those of you who hate Jacob, but he's a pretty big character. I couldn't leave him out. ; )


	10. Forks

**Author's Note:** So last chapter, we finally surpassed the 100 review mark. Yay! Congratulations to **Kayhuahua** for being the 100th reviewer (assuming I counted right, haha). Anyway, I do realize that it's been more than a week since I updated, but then again, Sunday is the day I usually update, so it's not too bad, is it?

Thanks to all the reviewers from last chapter, and hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

**Disclaimer:** _Roses are red, violets are blue, I still don't own the rights to _Twilight_, and, er, yeah, that's the end of the poem._

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Forks**

"The Cullens are a clan that lives primarily in North America," Demetri explained in a low voice when they were settled on the airplane. On his other side, Felix glared at the back of the seat in front of him, clearly still angry about what William had forced him to do. "They're a large clan… seven vampires, perhaps eight if Bella is a vampire, which is unheard of, with the exception of us. The reason why they've survived together is because they don't drink from humans, just from animals. It has something to do with their leader, Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen actually stayed with the Volturi for a while some centuries ago, before Felix or I came along.

"Two years ago, one of the younger Cullens – I can't remember his name – came to Volterra. He begged Aro, Caius, and Marcus to kill him, because the woman he loved was dead, or so he thought. We all found it strange that the woman had been human, and Aro refused, because this Cullen had a gift – like Aro, he could hear others' thoughts, but he didn't have to touch them to hear them. Aro thought the talent would be useful to us, so he attempted to persuade him to join the guard instead.

"Cullen refused and instead tried to goad us into killing him by stepping out into the sunlight in a human-filled plaza, right in our city. Luckily for him, the woman he loved showed up with his sister and persuaded him to stay in the shadows. She was not dead, after all.

"The Volturi had charged Felix and me with bringing Cullen to them, no matter what he did. So we followed orders. Well, they soon discovered that the sister could see the future, and that Bella… Bella was resistant to Jane and Aro's gifts, even as a human. He was curious to see what would happen if she were a vampire, but Cullen did not want to change her.

"Caius pointed out that Bella knew our secrets now and had to be killed, unless if she became a vampire. So, to leave, they had to agree to change her. Aro's forgotten up until now, and we have to check up on her. Aro is also interested in getting the Cullens to join us; their gifts are very useful." He glanced at William. "I'm surprised he had you come along. Your power would best be used in curbing the newborn armies in the southern United States. We've had some trouble with an old antagonist, Maria." Both he and Felix shuddered involuntarily.

"You know where she is?" asked William, changing the subject.

"The last I saw them, they were in a place called Forks, Washington. It's known for its lack of sunshine," replied Demetri. "They may have moved since then, but Forks will be our starting point." He looked disgruntled. "Of course, I should have known. Bella resists my power… I cannot connect to her mind to find her. Therefore, we must progress through more traditional means."

"What about finding the Cullens? She would be with them, wouldn't she?"

"Most likely." He winced. "But we don't want to risk it. If she hasn't been turned, they will realize that we are coming and split up to fight. One of them has the ability to see the future. Aro doesn't want any trouble if we can help it – if she is unchanged, we have instructions to contact the others for back-up. We need to find her, and her only."

Several hours later, they arrived in New York. William, who had not been in New York since he had left it over eighty years before, was stunned. There were posters of the modern New York everywhere, and tall buildings William had never seen before except in books seemed to be everywhere, according to the posters. "It's a shame we can't leave the airport," said Felix, clearly meaning for it to hurt. "I'm sure New York has changed since you've been here."

But William was staring at something else, or rather, someone. A withered old woman walked slowly past them, supported by another elderly, but younger, woman. It couldn't be her. _She_ had to be a hundred years old. She couldn't still be alive. And yet, he recognized her, despite the fact that no one else would be able to. "Did you find what you were looking for, Mom?" the younger woman asked.

"I don't know," said the older woman. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. William's heart ached. This wasn't her, even if it was. His Helen was young, beautiful, full of life. This old woman, whoever she was, could only be a shell. Fate was playing games with him; he wished he had never seen this shell.

"Hey! William!" Demetri shouted over the din of the airport. He and Felix had gone on, not realizing William had stopped. William turned away, catching a glimpse of the woman's startled expression as he rushed toward the other two. "We have to hurry. The connection leaves in an hour. Did you know that woman?"

"No," replied William, and in a way, he was telling the truth. It was Helen. His brain knew that. But his heart knew she had not been the same Helen he had left, the Helen who had not loved him back.

"I get to drive the car," said Demetri as they left the airport and went to pick up their rental car. "You drive too slowly, Felix."

"And you drive like a maniac," Felix retorted, but he tossed the keys he had been holding to Demetri. "What car did you arrange for?"

"My favorite." They stopped in front of a black Ferrari, identical to the one back in Italy. "They had to have this one brought up from Los Angeles while we were on the airplane, but it is worth it. Now, you, William. Come sit up front with me. I'm sure you would like to see the sights."

Felix rolled his eyes. "He has all of eternity. Why am I relegated to the back?" He glared at William.

"Because, frankly, Felix, I'd rather not see your ugly face. It distracts me from my tracking."

Felix growled, and the two playfully exchanged a few punches. William had never seen such an odd friendship – one was polite, charming, and slight; the other was roguish, easily angered, and a giant. There was more to the Volturi than he had thought.

In the car, Felix continued his needling, clearly not having forgiven William for the humiliation earlier and now for his replacement. "What was Aro thinking, putting him with us?"

"This is hardly a taxing assignment," said Demetri.

"The Cullens are a large clan. If things don't go to plan…"

"Then I'm sure William's power will come to good use." Demetri gave his friend a stern look. "Do you question our masters?"

"No," Felix said finally, his expression sullen.

"I think you are just angry William made you dance."

"I am not angry."

"If you must know, it was my idea."

Felix's stormy expression softened a little. "I knew that," he said peevishly. "Who else's idea could it have been?"

William's first impression of Forks was that it was very different from Rome. There was no way to describe it otherwise as Demetri drove slowly what was probably the main street. Everyone walking past the car gaped at it unabashedly. Clearly, black Ferraris were not common in a tiny town like Forks, Washington.

Demetri stopped the car in front of what looked like a sports and camping equipment store. "Is there someone who can help us in there?" asked William. It did not look as if there would be. The store was completely ordinary-looking.

"Possibly," said Felix, shrugging. "You have to start somewhere." He stretched. "I'm thirsty. Would they notice if I…?"

"And that is why you ought to have had more before coming here, instead of drinking just enough for the airplane," said Demetri, sighing. "Unfortunately, we cannot have any of these humans. This town is much too small… someone will notice. You will have to sustain yourself on animals." Felix grimaced.

"Who's in there, then?" asked William, gesturing at the store and changing the subject. He too felt thirsty, though he wasn't about to admit it in front of Felix, and he was pretty sure Demetri was as well. The airplane had been taxing. The sooner they got this done with, the better.

"Who knows?" replied Demetri indifferently. "This is a provincial little town; everyone knows everyone else's business. If this human can't tell us where the Cullens are, another human nearby will overhear and tell us."

"How will humans know where the Cullens are?" William had lived among them for eighty years as a vampire, but no human would be able to tell anyone where he or Bianca was.

"The Cullens integrate themselves with humans," said Felix, sneering. "They live among them... not like we do, but actually associating with them, seeing them every day, _talking_ to them." With that remark, he got out of the car. William and Demetri followed his lead, William a little uncertainly.

The store was filled with winter sports equipment, as it was January. William had never seen some of the things before; he had to be dragged away from the bright yellow snowmobile taking up an entire corner of the store. People in Rome had no use for such things because of the Mediterranean weather, and he had not been in a climate with much snow since his transformation.

There were a few people browsing, and a single young man behind the counter. All of them looked up and stared at the new arrivals, clearly unsure what to make of the black Ferrari visible outside and the expensive clothing. The scent of humans in a closed space hit William's nose, and he stopped breathing to quell the flames that burned in his throat. His endurance was weak, and he was glad they wouldn't have to spend long in the store.

"Can I help you?" asked the young man behind the counter. He was perhaps in his late teens, as he wore a sweatshirt that read, "University of Washington" on it. The customers in the store reluctantly turned away, though some snuck glances in their direction.

_Tell him we have a few questions. That we'__re relatives of the Cullens, looking for them__, as we haven'__t seen them__ in years, were in town, and decided to drop __by_, said Felix in William's mind asthe three vampires made their way to the counter. His eyes, like Demetri's and William's, were black from thirst, and luckily, the red ring around them wasn't very visible. William shot him a confused look, and then realized that he was the only one out of the three without a telltale accent, and Bella Swan probably did not have any European cousins that she knew of. The Volturi used English as a means of communication with each other, but only a few knew it as their native tongue.

"We have a few questions," he said, slightly nervously. "We're in need of directions, you see, as we're from out of town, and we have some relatives here in Forks."

The young man's eyes narrowed as he studied the three of them, taking in their unearthly beauty and pale skin. "The Cullens?" William nodded, surprised. "Well, you're out of luck," the young man said shortly. "They moved away after one of them died in an accident with Bella Swan, our police chief's daughter."

"Died in an accident?" asked William as Demetri and Felix pretended to look shocked.

"Yeah. Right after their wedding. I never pegged Bella as the kind to get married right after high school, especially not to that – _him_. But they died in a car accident… his fancy car took a dive off a cliff. I'm sorry about that," added the young man, remembering that they were supposed to be relatives. "I'm surprised you didn't hear; it's been over a year."

"We live far away," said William quickly. "In…"

"England," slipped in Demetri, in a passable accent. "Carlisle's distant cousins."

"Thought we'd drop in," said William, injecting a bit of regret in his voice, surprised at himself.

"Good," muttered Demetri.

"If you want to see them, they're supposed to have gone up to Vermont or something like that," said the young man.

"Of course. Thank you." William nodded at the young man, and the three vampires stepped out of the shop. Demetri pulled them aside.

"Vermont," repeated Felix.

"Perhaps somewhere close. Or not, as I'm not sure that human was reliable," hissed Demetri.

William scowled. "Is there any point tracking them if Bella Swan and that Cullen you were talking about are dead?"

The other two stared at him for a moment before laughing. "William, did you honestly think a Cullen could die in a _car accident_?" Demetri asked, his voice full of mirth. William shrugged sheepishly. Now that he thought of it, it had been stupid to believe the tale, especially as he was a vampire himself. "No, lucky for them, it looks like a cover-up, which means that Bella Swan is most likely turned. We must find them, however, since we still have to convince them to join us."

They fell silent. Finally, Demetri spoke again. "It is extremely frustrating that I cannot find her."

Felix nodded. "Perhaps we ought to try one of the Cullens after all," he said, resigned. William looked around, feeling uneasy for some reason. Every so often, a car would pass, and its occupants would stare at them. But there was a group of tall, muscular-looking men, all with cropped black hair, except for one, who wore his shaggy and long, standing across the street in the grocery store's parking lot. And all of them were watching – no, glaring – at the three vampires.

"Demetri…"

"Yes, William? Do you have an idea?" Demetri looked hopeful. He crinkled his nose. "What is that smell?"

William, who had been watching the men cross the street slowly the entire time, scowled. "I've been trying to tell you about _them_ the entire time," he said. The smell was awful, and there was a terrible _knowing_ look in the men's eyes.

Demetri sniffed the air again, having stopped breathing to avoid the stench. His eyes narrowed. "_Werewolves_," he hissed. "I knew the Cullens had to be hiding something that time. There was no way they would have all survived the newborns without outside help."

William looked behind them, but only saw the back of the store. In front of them, the werewolves advanced, closing in. They were surrounded.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, I lied slightly about Jacob being in the chapter; I forgot he doesn't actually speak until the next one. Sorry 'bout that, to those who were looking forward to his appearance. But at least William caught a glimpse of him. Minor cliffy, but I'm pretty sure you should be able to figure out vaguely what happens next.

I wasn't sure about the scene with Helen. It's very far-fetched, that they were on the same plane the entire time (and that she's still alive), but I kept the scene to show how William has a clear disconnect with his past life now (while he doesn't feel like he completely belongs with Bianca yet either). Basically, he doesn't really belong anywhere -- his old life is unreachable, and his new one not quite right for him either. Hmm... I wonder where William would feel complete. winkwink

As for Mike (hopefully, you guessed that he was the college student at the sports shop)... I always feel bad for him. Honestly, he's a faithful friend through _New Moon_, and he's never antagonistic, yet in the fandom, he's always this nasty and/or stupid character that always gets in the way. I mean, he does get in the way in the books, but it's not entirely fair, the portrayal of him. So I'm contemplating a bigger role for him in this story. I've already brought in another uninformed character.

Also, as I was saying last chapter, I had to fix Demetri's power in this chapter as well, so forgive any mistakes, if there are any. The plot has become a lot more exciting, though, due to the complications with Demetri's power... instead of the Volturi being able to figure out where Bella is immediately, they have to use their brains next chapter.

Please review! I love reviews.

And finally... next week is my spring break, and a couple of friends and I are going abroad for a few days, so I don't know when the next update will be. But to tide you over 'till then, a longer excerpt than usual:

_"Huh," said Felix. "Interesting, but it doesn't explain why you went ins—"_

_ He stiffened suddenly, straightening up in his seat as a breeze from outside wafted in, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of a human. A very appetizing human, from the smell of it. All three vampires turned their heads simultaneously toward the cemetery they had believed to be deserted. A man was getting up from a kneeling position, wiping his eyes. He had been previously hidden by a tree, and they hadn't noticed any noise he had made, but now that he was standing, they could see him._

_ "No, Felix," growled Demetri, putting a restraining hand on Felix's forearm. Felix strained against him, opening his door and trying to get out._

_ "So… thirsty, Demetri," he panted. "Just… one… little… human…"_


	11. Werewolves

**Author's Note:** So a lot of you were getting impatient for William and Edward to meet. There's still two chapters between this chapter and the chapter when they finally meet (and that chapter is giving me loads of trouble... nothing is good enough, it seems), so to partly make it up to you, I decided to put up this chapter before I leave for Montreal. So at least we're all a little closer to that moment, haha.

Also, many of you guessed correctly who the human in the cemetery is (everyone who guessed got it right), so yay!

Anyway, hopefully, you like this chapter, especially if you like seeing Jacob. I'm not sure yet if the werewolves will have a big part in this story -- it's more about the Cullens' interactions with the Volturi after the chapter Edward and William meet, but the werewolves might pop up again.

**Disclaimer:**

Me:  
_ Help, I need somebody,  
Help, not just anybody,  
Help, you know I need someone, help. _

Edward: I'm here! What do you need?

Me: The rights to _Twilight_. And probably the rights to the Beatles' songs.

Edward: deflates Sorry, can't do that. goes back to Bella

Me: But... you're EDWARD!

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Werewolves**

The werewolves stopped, some of them growling audibly. William was surprised to see a female among them; he had always heard werewolves were male. The only reason why they hadn't changed into wolves yet, William supposed, and torn them to pieces, was that they were just off of Forks' main street.

"You are on _our_ protected land, bloodsuckers," said one of them, clearly the leader.

"We don't want your land," replied Demetri coldly. "We are members of the Volturi guard. Do you know what that is, _dog_?"

"Do you think it matters to us?" snarled the one with longer hair. "You are on our land, threatening the humans, so therefore, you must be destroyed."

"Can you destroy us?" sneered Felix. "We don't need a treaty or peace with you, like the Cullens did. We have the force and might to dispose of all of you."

Two of the werewolves snarled and pinned Felix to the wall of the store. "Not if we kill all three of you. No one will know of our existence," said the one with the longer hair coolly.

William and Demetri stepped forward and found themselves similarly pinned in a heartbeat. There were simply too many of the werewolves. One of the werewolves holding William was the one with longer hair. He was staring at William, a strange expression on his face.

_Let me go_, William thought fiercely at both werewolves holding him. The other werewolf relaxed his hold slightly, so William focused on him. _Let me go, let me go, let me go_…

"Quil, what are you doing?" hissed the werewolf with longer hair.

"I don't know, Jacob! I don't know!" Quil was clearly fighting the urge, but his grip was unmistakably loosening.

"Let me go, Quil," murmured William, smiling. Names made commands more effective. Quil seemed mesmerized for a moment, then he let go.

"No!" roared Jacob, and he tackled William, shaking furiously.

"Jacob!"

"You can't transform here, Jacob!"

"Don't transform, Jacob," said William hurriedly. _Don't transform, don't transform, don't transform_. Jacob stopped shaking, and William let out a breath of relief. The last thing they needed was a wolf in the small space with them.

"Look. If we fight here, we will clearly win," said Demetri as smoothly as he could, crushed against the wall as he was. "All we wanted was information."

_And then after the Cullens, we'll have to tell Aro, Caius, and Marcus about this infestation_, thought Felix grimly.

"Perhaps you could help us," continued Demetri, not batting an eyelash, as if he had not heard Felix. "If you can tell us where our old friend went, we will be on our way there."

"And why should we help you?" asked the leader. There was a strange look in Jacob's eyes – worry, William realized. Why was he worried?

Demetri smiled. "As I said, they are old friends. Very old friends."

"Old friends? If they're friends, why do you not know where they are?"

"You're protecting them," said William quietly, suddenly. His eyes widened. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. The werewolves pretended confusion, but there had been a glimmer of panic. "Why? They are vampires as we are."

"We don't know who you are talking about," said Jacob. There was something else in his eyes now. Sadness… and love?

Why would a werewolf love a vampire? Unless if she had not been a vampire when he began to love her. "You protect Bella Swan," said William, understanding dawning on him. "You should not worry. If she is a vampire now, she is safe from us." Demetri and Felix gave him astounded looks. William himself was not sure how he was remaining so calm.

"Bella Cullen now," said Jacob bitterly. He looked straight into William's eyes. "You shouldn't worry about that, then. She was turned more than a year ago. But again, why should we allow you to see them? You could be lying."

"They outnumber us by five," drawled Demetri. "But in any case, if they do not show up in Volterra soon, our masters will send more powerful guards to find them. And I'm afraid Jane enjoys her torture far too much."

There was silence for a moment. Finally, the leader came to a decision. "Jacob, Embry, Jared, come with me. The rest of you, watch them until we come back." The four werewolves moved apart from the rest of their pack and began to converse in low voices, low enough so that the vampires could not hear.

"We are always left behind," said the female bitterly.

"Shut up, Leah," snapped Quil. "And pay attention to the bloodsuckers."

"Having problems within the group?" asked Felix sweetly.

"Shut up, leech!" snarled another, extremely angry-looking werewolf.

William felt a pair of eyes boring into him, and he turned to face them. Quil was studying him intently. _Take a picture; it will last longer_, said Felix, smirking. William snorted, as did Demetri.

"Anything funny?" asked Quil shortly.

"We were wondering why you were staring at my colleague," said Demetri.

Quil did not answer. A moment later, the four that had stepped aside returned. "You will be allowed to leave," said the leader stiffly, "as long as you leave now. We will follow you to make sure you do."

"That is all well and good," said Demetri. "But we still don't know where the Cullens are."

The leader hesitated. "You will have to find another way to find them."

Demetri scowled. _Never mind_, said Felix soothingly to both him and William. _There is the Denali coven up in Alaska. Perhaps they will know. Or perhaps we will pick up a scent. You do remember her scent, don't you, Demetri_? Demetri nodded stiffly, then gestured at the other two. The three turned to leave.

"Wait," said the one called Jacob. He was glaring at William. "Who are you?"

"Now why would you need to know that?" sneered Demetri.

William wondered the same thing. "William Masen, at your service," he said, bowing mockingly. Now that they were safely past the werewolves, he felt slightly cocky.

"Related to any of the Cullens?"

William stared. "No." Was this werewolf stupid? How would he be related to any of the Cullens?

"I wonder…" Suddenly, before William could react, Jacob had reached forward, and like lightning, had snatched the charm off his neck. William snarled and lunged for it, but Demetri and Felix pulled him back.

"We don't need a fight, William," snapped Demetri. "Our masters will not be pleased if we waste more time."

"I thought I saw this," said Jacob, smirking. "Couldn't be sure of what I read, though."

William writhed against the other vampires' grips, growling. A red mist was forming in front of his eyes, not unlike what happened when he did not feed for weeks and came upon a particularly

tasty-smelling human. Except this one was caused by anger – no, fury, irrational fury. He hissed, venom pooling in his mouth instinctively. "Give that back."

_William, what is going on?_ asked Felix urgently, as he and Demetri tightened their holds on him. _Come on, we should go_. _We can't take all these werewolves, no matter how powerful we are._

Jacob stepped toward then, the charm dangling between his fingers. His expression was suddenly serious, as if he were seeing William for the first time and didn't know what to make of him. "Who is he?" he murmured.

It was as if there was no one else in the world besides William and Jacob. The others watched, utterly confused, as the vampire and werewolf stared into each other's eyes, William's onyx eyes blazing with fury on the brink of madness and Jacob's warm brown eyes unreadable.

"It's none of your concern," said William slowly, a dangerous undertone in his voice.

"No, it is not," admitted Jacob. "But I am still curious."

William snarled, and everyone around them twitched. "He was my brother."

"Why do you protect him like this?"

"Protect him?" replied William scathingly. "There is no need to protect him. He left me alone in the world, sending me into this state of eternal damnation." As he spoke, the years of buried bitterness swelled up within him again, and he felt as if he needed to retch. Hatred burned inside of him; the logical part of him told him that it wasn't Edward's fault, was never his fault, but to see the last remainder of his brother in the hands of a werewolf pushed him off the edge.

"He left you?" Jacob repeated, a strange gleam in his eyes.

William rolled his eyes. "Only you could take it so literally, werewolf. My brother is dead, and I prefer to never think of him."

The werewolf studied his face for a long time, his lips quirked. "Edward Masen," he said under his breath speculatively. Demetri shifted slightly at this, his expression strange as he stared at William, a strange gleam in his eye. Then Jacob smiled, but it was a twisted smile, almost a grimace. He placed the charm in William's shirt pocket and patted it before saying in a louder and strangely casual voice, "Your brother is dead, bloodsucker, and you'd better get used to it." There was a barely noticeable emphasis on the word "dead," and William wondered if he had imagined it.

"It's time for us to leave," said Demetri stiffly as he and Felix loosened their holds on William. _You will explain this_, he added with a meaningful glance in the younger vampire's direction.

* * *

"They're gone," said Felix. "They've turned back; I can smell them retreating. It's a little easier to breathe now."

Demetri stopped the car. They were right outside the town boundaries, next to a cemetery. "I'm slightly insulted," he said. "They barely followed us."

"I suppose they just wanted us out. They're probably patrolling the town." Felix frowned. "So, William, what were you thinking back there?"

Demetri nodded, his eyes narrowed in the rearview mirror. He rolled down his window, grumbling about the stench of werewolves. William avoided both their glares in the mirror and stared out at the field of headstones.

"Well?" said Felix impatiently.

_Your brother is dead, bloodsucker, and you'd better get used to it_. The words rang through his head. Why couldn't he get used to it? He was sure, he thought bitterly, that if Edward had been in his place, he would have forgotten all about William by now. "I have a remarkably good memory for a vampire," he said simply, his voice level.

"What the devil are you talking about?" asked Demetri, confused. "We all have good memories."

"I mean of my human life. I remember almost everything."

"Huh," said Felix. "Interesting, but it doesn't explain why you went ins—"

He stiffened suddenly, straightening up in his seat as a breeze from outside wafted in, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of a human. A very appetizing human, from the smell of it. All three vampires turned their heads simultaneously toward the cemetery they had believed to be deserted. A man was getting up from a kneeling position, wiping his eyes. He had been previously hidden by a tree, and they hadn't noticed any noise he had made, but now that he was standing, they could see him.

"No, Felix," growled Demetri, putting a restraining hand on Felix's forearm. Felix strained against him, opening his door and trying to get out.

"So… thirsty, Demetri," he panted. "Just… one… little… human…"

"William, go! Get the human away, or Aro will have our hides!" hissed Demetri as he struggled with the other vampire.

William nodded and bolted out of the car, leaping over the short fence that separated the cemetery from the road. He forced himself to run at a human speed; running at full speed was just foolish. He looked back – Demetri was forcing Felix toward the woods, presumably to find an animal to tide him over until they reached better hunting grounds. He slowed to a walk and donned an appropriately mournful expression on his face. It would be easier to just use his

vampire charms to lead the human away to safety, rather than waste energy using his power. He chuckled inwardly at the irony. Using his charms to lead the human to safety… what an idea.

The man turned as William approached, deliberately making noise so that a human could hear him. His eyes were sad, and he looked extremely tired. Then he started, his eyes widening and his face paling, as if he had seen a ghost. His heartbeat ratcheted up several notches.

"Hello," said William, inwardly wondering why the human was acting so strangely. Usually, humans were calmed by his presence if he wanted them to be.

The man relaxed. Clearly, his mind had caught up to whatever he had been thinking. His heartbeat slowed, and he crumpled slightly. "Hello," he said warily. William frowned inwardly. Really, what was going on? He oozed out more charm. The man did not react. "My name is William Masen. I'm visiting today. My cousin." He gestured at the nearest headstone and noticed with some surprise that the name on it was "Edward Cullen." The name "Edward" felt like a blunt knife in his chest, as always, and a strange feeling accompanied it this time, but William quashed it. He had more important things to worry about right now.

"Your cousin," repeated the man. Once more, William felt consternation. The man ought to be putty in his hands, but he wasn't. He felt slightly panicked. What was he supposed to do? Demetri and Felix weren't there to help. But the man seemed to accept his explanation. "Well, then, William Masen, we have something in common. My name is Charlie Swan." He held out a hand, and William shook it gingerly. "Bella was my daughter." He nodded at the headstone next to Edward Cullen's. Once more, William felt as if he were missing something, that there was a vital piece of information he should have known. But something else had caught his attention.

This was Bella's father. The thought popped into his mind in less than a millisecond. "Demetri, it's Bella's father. We could use him, couldn't we, since the Cullens have that way of seeing things in the future? They'll see this, won't they, and come for him?" He said this all in less than half a second, disguising it as a cough.

"You have something there. Felix is feeding; we will be there as soon as he is finished," replied Demetri. "Keep him there."

Charlie was looking at William suspiciously. "Ah, I see," said William sympathetically. "Yes, my cousin and I didn't talk much, but we did hear about Bella… she was the love of his life."

* * *

**Author's Note:** It's an abrupt ending to the chapter, but when I attempted to go back and add to it, nothing good would come out, so I left it as is.

Anyway, I'm slightly iffy about the werewolves leaving the Volturi alone as soon as they left the boundaries of Forks, but then again, my rationale is that no one specific was in danger, and the Volturi had left the area that was purely the wolves' domain. Besides, the werewolves can't risk angering the Volturi even further, now that the Volturi know about them. At least now, there's a chance the Volturi will forget about them (yeah, right, but the pack can hope...).

Jacob's being slightly cruel, but then again, I suppose he would hate everything that might have to do with Edward. Hehe. And Demetri's perceptive, no?

Um... not much else to say, so I'll just leave you with a plea for you to review -- there are so many people with this story on alert and on their favorites, but not nearly as many reviews. It's nice to see that you all like this fic, but a little disappointing when I only get the notification that someone's reading the fic, but not reviewing. Please do drop a line if you can, even if it's just a couple of words of encouragement. : ) stops pleading for reviews

Okay, now that I've finished being whiny:

_"Well, he's getting a confrontation," I pointed out._

"But with Bella," replied Carlisle. "He wants to see Bella." "He won't see her if she doesn't go," said Edward pointedly. "No! You can't stop me from going… he's my father!" protested Bella, glaring at him. 

Hmm... I wonder who this mystery POV is... : )


	12. Interlude, Part One: Alice

**Author's Note:** So I didn't want to put this one up until I had Chapter Nine written (that would be the fourteenth chapter here on I believe). Chapter Nine is the one you're all waiting for, and it gave me so much trouble. Nothing seemed to be good enough, so it took longer than I thought. I think I actually rewrote it several times, but it is finally done now, as of 12:23 AM on March 22. For Jacob fans, you'll be glad to hear he makes a second, previously unplanned, appearance. What finally worked was just letting myself type with very little thought going into what I was writing, so I'll have to go back and look it over later. Anyway, also, I wanted to get it done earlier, so that I could post this one earlier too... it's not that exciting of a chapter, but it's necessary, since we do need to get the Cullens back to Forks.

I loved the reviews from last chapter; thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Everyone who guessed the POV in this chapter got it right, haha. And a lot of you interceded on the behalf of Charlie. Don't worry about him. I'm not that mean. 

Hope you enjoy the new POV in this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the rights to _Twilight_ and related characters and settings, I would not be in college right now. 

* * *

**Interlude, Part One: Alice**

Edward smirked._Checkmate_, he mouthed. Scowling, I knocked over my king and leaned back in my chair, my arms crossed across my chest petulantly.

Bella laughed. I adored her laugh – it was musical, like bells. Bells, Bella. How fitting. "Don't worry, Alice, Edward can't really sing, remember?"

"I do remember." I grinned, my loss forgotten. Edward used to sing in the shower frequently, not caring if we heard it and knowing that the human Bella wouldn't. But early on in her life as a vampire, the fact that she now _could_ hear him had slipped his mind. We would never let him live down his imitation of Elvis Presley.

He growled. Bella and I shared a glance. This was good. His mind was off that photograph he was obsessing over, at least for now. Bella knew what that was all about, but we both agreed that she shouldn't tell anyone, even me, because Edward could read my mind, and I was nowhere near as good at hiding my thoughts as Carlisle was. Bella started humming the tune he had sung that time.

He tackled her, knocking over his chair in his haste. She giggled, attempting to fend him off as he tickled her mercilessly. I smiled at the scene. It was truly lucky that Bella had come along. Before she had, Edward had been so lonely.

"Lost again?" Jasper sat down and put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned against him, sighing.

"Unfortunately. His ego's getting too big these days." I looked up at him. "How was class?" Like the rest of us, including Bella, who had surprisingly good control for a relative newborn, Jasper took night classes at Dartmouth. He was the only one with a class that day, though, as it was Friday. 

"It was good. Same as always. We had a quiz; I made sure to get a question wrong." Every time he went to college, Jasper took computer science courses, despite the fact that he could probably build a faster computer than the current fastest computer from scratch. 

"Hmm." Suddenly, I felt a twinge, as I always did, alerting me that I was about to have a vision. Edward froze as well, his eyes curious.

I closed my eyes. _Charlie Swan sat in what looked like a warehouse, looking extremely lost and scared. There were no ropes binding him, but that was to be expected, as there were three vampires standing around him. One looked up, straight into my eyes, as if he knew I could see them. It was one of the Volturi guards… Demetri. Of course, the tracker. He smirked and inclined his head slightly toward Charlie_. _Port Angeles, he mouthed_.

The vision ended. I opened my eyes, horrified, and at the same time, Edward leapt to his feet, his mouth a thin, grim line. "What's wrong?" asked Bella, her brow furrowed in worry.

Edward hesitated for a moment, and I frowned at him. Bella had a right to know, and there was no need to keep this from her. He sometimes had a problem remembering she was now as strong as he was. "It's Charlie," he said. "The Volturi have him. It's clear that they captured him to lure us in."

"Charlie? The Volturi?" repeated Bella.

"They must have remembered the agreement about Bella," said Carlisle from the doorway. Behind him were Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie, all looking worried. "I'm surprised they remembered so quickly, though we should have realized this is a method they could have chosen, as they can't track you, Bella."

"Charlie should have been protected by the presence of werewolves," snapped Edward. "Aren't those dogs good for anything?"

"The Volturi are slippery. I would expect Demetri to be extremely clever, even without his ability to follow Bella's mind. He doesn't want an unnecessary confrontation with us, so he didn't dare track us, in case he found us without Bella. It must be Aro's orders."

"Well, he's getting a confrontation," I pointed out.

"But with Bella," replied Carlisle. "He wants to see Bella."

"He won't see her if she doesn't go," said Edward pointedly.

"No! You can't stop me from going… he's my father!" protested Bella, glaring at him.

"It's dangerous. You heard Carlisle. Demetri wants _you_, Bella!"

"I'm not a human anymore, Edward. I can take care of myself." Bella scowled at Edward, and he slumped, defeated. There was no argument against that. "Look…" She put her arms around him. "I appreciate your caring for me so much, but you have to remember that things are different now. I need you for other reasons." 

The rest of us turned away to give them some privacy. I felt as if I were intruding. "We have to move soon," I said in a low voice to the others. "This is happening soon, I could feel it. It's three human-drinking vampires in a warehouse with Charlie. They probably won't hurt him for the time being, but who knows what will happen if we don't hurry?"

"Where are they?" asked Rosalie.

"Port Angeles. I'm willing to bet the werewolves chased them out of Forks but didn't do a thorough enough job of it."

Edward and Bella joined the rest of us in our huddle by the doorway. Bella looked resolute. "Are we heading out?"

"Yes." Carlisle nodded. "I'll call the airline, and then we'll be on our way."

* * *

**Author's Note:** And enter the Cullens! I hope you liked the bit of Edward/Bella fluff in there, and that Alice got to narrate a bit. Yes, they're at Dartmouth; in _Eclipse_, that's the last university that Edward's trying to get Bella to go to, and I admit, I'm a bit of a snob. I like my characters to go to prestigious universities. Although I'm not sure what made Stephenie Meyer choose Dartmouth... I always thought Dartmouth was well-known for its party scene, a scene I can't see any of the Cullens really frequenting, seeing as they are vampires, haha. I wonder if they really do offer night classes.

Please review! I will most likely get the next chapter out sooner than a week from now, since this one is abnormally short.

Preview:

_They stood there, untiring, as the hours ticked past and the world outside grew darker. My panic did not return. I realized I had accepted my fate, to die here by the hand of these would-be mental patients. I dimly wondered if there was the faintest chance they were telling the truth, but squashed that thought immediately. Vampires, indeed. Next they'd be telling me there were werewolves too._

I bet you can figure out this POV pretty easily. : ) 


	13. Interlude, Part Two: Charlie

**Author's Note: **I promised that this interlude would be up in less than a week, and it's up within two days, so you all had better be happy. : ) I hadn't been planning to post this until mid-week, but it turned out that I wrote about six chapters in the course of a weekend, after several weeks of not writing anything. The chapter after this one was giving me trouble, especially since it's the one you've all been waiting for, but once I got it, well, everything flowed again.

All of you that guessed that this was Charlie's POV, you got it right, of course. I've decided you're all psychic. Hopefully, you enjoy my attempt at getting into the mind of a middle-aged man, haha. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter; I wasn't expecting many reviews, since it was so short and kind of uneventful, but as always, you guys were awesome.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned the characters and settings of _Twilight_, I would not be attempting to writing something in the POV of a middle-aged man.

* * *

**Interlude, Part Two: Charlie**

_Isabella Marie Swan_

_1987-2006_

_Beloved daughter and friend_

_**Love give me strength, and strength will help me through.**_

I ran my fingers over the engraved letters. Alice Cullen had picked out the last line, and she had told me it was from _Romeo and Juliet_. After the Cullens had moved away, I had gone to the library on a whim and flipped through a copy of the play. A bitter smile came to my face as I remembered what the line after this one was. _Goodbye, dear father_. Maybe not the kind of father I was, but there was a certain irony.

Slowly, I stood, wiping dirt from my knees and tears from my eyes. Even after more than a year, it still hurt just as much as when it first happened. She had been so happy, and despite my disapproval of her marriage to… him… I had been happy for her. At the funeral, Alice had assured me she was happy, wherever she was. I felt a pang for the Cullens, wherever they were. Their grief had all surpassed tears.

Nineteen years old. I sighed and then stiffened as I heard footsteps behind me. I turned, and what I saw nearly made me have a heart attack right then and there. At first, I thought it was _Edward Cullen_ walking towards me, which was impossible, as he was dead, memorialized a few feet away. It was the same hair, the same pale features. But no, there were differences. "Hello," the boy said, and I relaxed. It wasn't him. But for some strange reason, I felt the same distrust with this boy that I had felt around Edward.

"Hello," I replied, my mind still not made up about this kid. There was something weird about him. Another wave of distrust suddenly crashed upon me.

"My name is William Masen. I'm visiting today. My cousin." His voice was just like Edward's, though. Not in the actual pitch and texture, but he had the same annoying musical tone, as if he was singing or something. He gestured at the headstone next to him, and looked slightly surprised that it was Edward's. A second later, I was sure, though, that I had imagined his shock, as he looked perfectly composed again, a picture-perfect mournful expression on his irritatingly perfect face.

"Your cousin," I said. No wonder they looked so alike. Although how did this William kid know Edward, if Edward had been adopted? Maybe Edward had been in touch with his birth parents or something. I decided to accept this explanation, despite the little niggling voice in the back of my mind that was saying that not everything was quite right. "Well, then, William Masen, we have something in common. My name is Charlie Swan." I held out a hand. There was no reason to be rude. "Bella was my daughter." I nodded at Bella's headstone, feeling the pain swell up again.

William coughed, and his expression looked almost feral for a moment. I stared at him, but it was back to the mournful expression again. "Ah, I see," he said sympathetically. "Yes, my cousin and I didn't talk much, but we did hear about Bella… she was the love of his life."

_Didn't seem like it_, I thought rebelliously. I couldn't help thinking sometimes that if only she had dated Jacob, if only she hadn't been in the car with that maniac at the wheel – I always knew he was a dangerous driver – then she would still be alive.

The boy was now staring intently at Edward's headstone, as if he were reading something particularly confusing. I failed to see what was so confounding about a name and some dates. "Did he say that?"

"No," said William, shrugging. "But you could tell. He went to Italy for her, remember?"

"Italy?" What the _hell_ had Edward Cullen been doing in Italy? Why would he have gone there for Bella? I voiced this out loud.

William blinked, and he looked annoyed at himself for some reason. "Ah, I must have been mistaken," he murmured.

I opened my mouth. There was no way he was telling the truth, and I wanted to know _why_ Edward Cullen had been in Italy, and what Bella had to do with it. But before I could speak, two other men appeared from nowhere, it seemed. "Who are you?" I asked, backing away from them. They too were pale, like William, although it looked strange on them, as there was a definite olive tint to both their skin tones.

"These are Demetri and Felix. Family friends," said William smoothly, and suddenly, his voice sounded dangerous, although he clearly meant it to be soothing. "Demetri, Felix, this is Charlie. Bella's father."

"Hello," said Demetri, smiling. His teeth were too white.

Something was off about them. And then, as I glanced at Felix, the big one, I realized what was wrong. Although William and Demetri had pitch black eyes, which I could just about accept, Felix's eyes were burgundy. Burgundy wasn't a normal eye color. I guessed they could have been contacts, but all three of them were suddenly giving off a distinctly inhuman vibe.

_Come on, Charlie, don't be stupid_, I thought as soon as this feeling came over me. Inhuman vibes? Of course they were human, I attempted to tell myself. But I couldn't stop my heart from beating faster…

Demetri grinned. "Don't be afraid, Charlie," he purred, and there was definitely something off. Alarm bells were going off in my mind, even as I felt my body relax. What was going on? All three of them were smiling at me reassuringly, and though my body was calming down, my mind still screamed.

William frowned. Demetri looked frustrated for a moment, and Felix shrugged, as if Demetri had said something. But he hadn't. More alarm bells started clanging in my head. "Come with us," said Demetri, returning to his soothing expression. Clearly, he meant for me to follow, but I struggled against him with all my might. He scowled. "William," he said silkily.

A voice suddenly entered my mind. _Follow us._ Unwittingly, my legs started to move of their own accord, toward the three of them, as they slowly led me to their car. It was a black Ferrari, which set off even more alarm bells. What were they doing with a black Ferrari?

I got into the car, my body obeying the constant stream of commands in my mind. William slid in next to me in the backseat. "Good, Charlie," he said under his breath. "Now sit tight."

The car took off, and I watched in horror as the speed needle inched toward the far right side of the speedometer. _Calm down_, urged the voice, and my body relaxed, though my mind was still in sheer shock at the speed we were traveling at. We would crash, most definitely.

"I want to know what is going on." My voice shook.

"It is best you don't know anything," said William simply. "The less you know, the better."

"I should warn you, I'm a police officer." Even to me, it sounded stupid. Somehow, I knew that didn't matter to these three.

"Admirable profession, Mr. Swan," said Demetri from the driver's seat. "But irrelevant at the moment." His accent, I realized for the first time, was foreign. William's cadence was strange, too, as if he belonged in another century.

"Where are we going?" I demanded.

"Port Angeles," said Felix. His accent was foreign as well. French, or something close to it. "We're going to wait for some friends of ours."

"Why are you taking me?"

"That's for us to know," replied William. "Like I said, the less you know, the better."

I glared at him. "How old are you, anyway?" The kid couldn't have been more than eighteen or nineteen, and he and his friends, were, more or less, kidnapping me for some unknown reason.

"Eighteen," he said, without missing a beat. It was this that convinced me that he was lying, but somehow telling the truth at the same time. Who sounded this practiced when talking about their age?

"Why aren't you in school? You sound smart enough to go to college."

He shrugged. "I got into Yale, but I didn't end up going." Again, that feeling that he was telling the truth but lying too.

"Perhaps there is no harm in telling him," said Felix, leering at me. "Soon, he will know too much anyway for it to matter." He sighed, and I thought I heard his voice, in my head, saying petulantly, _I'm so thirsty_. I shook my head in disbelief. Demetri glared at him for some reason.

Felix was still staring at me, a strangely hungry look on his face. His eyes had turned black.

"The less he knows, the better," said William staunchly.

"What's the difference? He will die either way."

My mouth opened in a silent scream, and my mind whirled, searching for escape. If I jumped out of the car, I would probably be killed. But at this rate, I would be killed anyway. I tried to move, but my body wouldn't obey. It twitched weakly but did not do anything else.

"Why don't I just kill him now? It'll rid us all of the torture."

"Because we need him alive to lure her," said Demetri pointedly.

"They will still come if he's dead."

"But they will not be predisposed to cooperate."

Felix sat back in his seat, and I could have sworn he was growling. I recognized the outskirts of Port Angeles, usually a half hour drive. It had taken us less than fifteen minutes.

"What are you people?" I whispered.

Demetri sighed. "We're here," he said, as he parked the car next to an abandoned-looking warehouse. It was non-descript and locked. The three of them got out of the car, and I followed, wondering if my legs would obey me outside. Perhaps I could run away. But all three of them looked to be in far better shape than I was.

Felix marched up to the padlocked door and ripped off the lock with no effort at all. I stared, completely stunned, and William took the opportunity to prod me into the now open warehouse. "Someone will see that you broke in here," I said, my voice shaking. Even to me, I sounded uncertain. "The police will come."

"Let them come," said Felix, chucking nastily.

"They will not. No one ever comes here. I cannot smell any recent scents," said Demetri coolly. I gaped at him. _Smell_? What was he, a dog? He closed the door, and the warehouse darkened, the only light coming in from the windows close to the ceiling.

There were stacks of dusty boxes everywhere. William sat me down on the cold ground between a couple of the stacks, and the three of them surrounded me. I willed my body to obey me once more, but again, it remained limp. Demetri suddenly looked up and smiled.

"She knows. I felt it in her mind," he said to the other two.

Who was _she_? How could he feel anything in her mind? "I want to know what is going on," I demanded. If I couldn't escape, I wanted at least an explanation. Weren't the bad guys supposed to go on and on about their plans before they killed you?

"Bring it upon yourself, then, if you must," said Demetri coldly, and suddenly, the three of them definitely did not look human. The looks on their faces were the most frightening thing I had ever seen, as if they were out of a nightmare. I cowered. "Charlie Swan, how familiar are you with the stories of mythical creatures?"

"Are you going anywhere with this?" I said, trying to sound braver than I felt. The feeling that something was _terribly_ unnatural had returned, full force.

"Do you know about vampires?" he pressed on.

"It's nowhere near Halloween."

"Why don't you play along, then? Tell us what you know about vampires."

I gulped. Something about the expression on his face told me he was being deadly serious about the conversation, yet there was no way vampires could have anything to do with this. "They drink blood," I answered hesitantly.

"Yes…" hissed Felix, sneering. "Go on."

"They're dead."

"A good start. Keep going," said Demetri.

William scowled. "Don't bring this upon him. He will be happier and more likely to survive if he does not know."

"Quiet, William. Well?" asked Felix, leering at me.

"They… they come out only at night and sleep during the day in coffins. They can be defeated with garlic, crosses, and holy water."

Felix burst out laughing. "That _is_ silly, Charlie. Indeed, I see what you mean now about it not being Halloween. _Those_ vampires only exist then, and only in the pathetic imaginations of humans."

He spoke about humans as if he was not one of them. "Vampires don't exist _ever_," I said, my voice shaking slightly. "They're myths. Silly stories."

"Well, the ones you humans tell certainly are," agreed Demetri. "Like Felix said, vampires are not restricted to the night, nor do they sleep in coffins. In fact, they cannot sleep at all. And nothing as trivial as garlic or bits of wood or water can defeat them."

"Vampires aren't real!" I snarled, starting to get fed up. Something was really starting to bother me about them. There was an all too amused look in their eyes, as if I was particularly stupid and unable to understand something obvious. "What would you know about them, anyway?"

The three just stood there, silently staring at me. Felix and Demetri looked ready to burst with laughter, and William looked frustrated. Finally, he broke the silence. "It helps if you are one," he murmured, so softly I almost didn't catch it.

"A what?" Surely he didn't mean… maybe I _had_ heard him incorrectly.

"A vampire, Charlie Swan," said Demetri, and suddenly, his velvety, slightly musical voice didn't sound human anymore. I shook my head vigorously; that was ridiculous. I was letting their ridiculous story get to me.

"V-Vam…" I burst out laughing, and the three of them looked perplexed by my reaction. "Don't be ridiculous. All three of you are insane, clearly."

"Take it as you will, then," said William, finally, after a long and awkward pause.

They stood there, untiring, as the hours ticked past and the world outside grew darker. My panic did not return. I realized I had accepted my fate, to die here by the hand of these would-be mental patients. I dimly wondered if there was the faintest chance they were telling the truth, but squashed that thought immediately. Vampires, indeed. Next they'd be telling me there were werewolves too.

While I stayed calm, Felix grew more and more restless. Demetri and William glared at him every few minutes, as if chastising him. A hungry look formed on his expression again, and it made me slightly uneasy, though not enough to bring me out of the unnatural calm I had descended into.

The sky outside was entirely dark when Felix shifted suddenly. "Felix," growled Demetri, his tone warning.

The look in Felix's eyes was terrifying. He looked ready to pounce… on me.

But before he could respond, all three of them suddenly stiffened, and Demetri grinned lazily. "They're here."

Who was here? Should I have been even more nervous, or was help on its way?

I opened my mouth to voice these questions out loud, but the doors to the warehouse slammed open and dented upon impact, silencing me.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So hopefully, I was able to sound reasonably like Charlie? As for Charlie's not trusting the vampires... well, I always thought Bella had to get her protection against certain vampire gifts from somewhere. Then I thought, well, Charlie does never trust Edward after _New Moon_, and while part of that is of course the fact that he left Bella, aren't vampires supposed to put humans at ease nevertheless? So I stretched it a bit and made Charlie wary of the Volturi, since they are acting a little suspicious. A normal human would be calmed by their, er, vampire-ness, but not Charlie!

The quote at the beginning is from, as Charlie reveals, _Romeo and Juliet_. It's at the very end of Act IV, scene i. Fitting, as Bella was entering into something quite risky, as Juliet was, and the end result is supposed to be being together with their true loves.

William's a good guy in this chapter, but his character hasn't been revealed yet. He's not Edward, I'll tell you that. His actions in later chapters differ greatly from what Edward would have done in the situation... this fic is, after all, partly about the differences in their pasts.

Please review! points rather obviously at the fact that this update came only two days after the last one... absolutely lightning speed in my case : D You have no excuses this time; plenty happened in this chapter. Hehe.

Excerpt:

_William shook his head, unconsciously recoiling from the other Volturi guard. He began backing away from Edward, then toward the doors, shaking his head. "He's not my brother. Not anymore. We're dead to each other," he whispered. "Not my brother."_

I actually had a hard time choosing quotes, but in the end, I chose this one, because you all knew this was coming anyway. The other one would have given away another plot point. I am so evil.


	14. The Warehouse

**Author's Note:** Here is the chapter you've all been waiting for. Won't say much up here... I'll let you read.

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_, its characters, and its settings do not belong to me, a lowly college student.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: The Warehouse**

The three vampires stood in a rough triangle around Charlie, their bodies tense with anticipation. _They should be here already_, grumbled Felix.

"Patience. I would think they're using an airplane, and humans cannot be relied on," said Demetri, his voice too fast and too low for a human to hear.

William ignored them both. He was still annoyed that they had practically forced him to reveal their secret to Charlie, and on top of that, he still puzzled over Charlie himself. How was it that Charlie was able to rebel against their powers, despite the fact that most humans turned into mush upon seeing a vampire?

Felix twitched. _I'm thirsty,_ he complained, his eyes lighting up Charlie. _Come on, Demetri, they won't know until they get here at this point. If I could just…_

"Felix," said Demetri, his tone dangerous.

The other vampire glanced at him, then turned back toward the human, the look in his eyes becoming more feral. He arched slightly, preparing to spring—

The scent hit them simultaneously. At the same time, they could hear faint noises, coming from about a half a mile away. Demetri grinned at them, and the tension dissipated. "They're here," he announced, mainly for Charlie's benefit.

Charlie opened his mouth, as if to speak, but the doors slammed open, interrupting him.

A slim figure stood outside, silhouetted against the weak light from lamps behind it. "Isabella. How kind of you to join us," said Demetri smoothly.

"_Bella_?" whispered Charlie, his voice shaking. He stood up, and William twitched to stop him, but Demetri put a hand on his arm to halt him. The human rushed toward his daughter, who was an oasis of normalcy to him despite her presumed death, enveloping her in an embrace. "Bella, what's going on? I thought… I thought… but you're… Oh, honey, you're so cold."

"Hi, Dad," she said softly, her pain evident in her voice.

"Forgive us," said Felix. "We would have been able to find you without him if it hadn't been for your gift. You, of course, remember the deal we made?"

"How could I forget?" asked Bella coldly. "You could have tracked any of my family."

"We didn't want to find them. We wanted to find you," replied Demetri, his expression unreadable. "Speaking of them, where are they? I smell them outside, and I'm sure we'd all be much happier if they were inside, _within sight_," he added pointedly.

"You're a fine one to be worrying about honorable conduct," said a velvety male voice. Another figure had appeared next to Bella, and Charlie gasped. To his human eyes, the other vampire had come out of nowhere.

Felix chuckled. "Not up to your Victorian standards, Cullen?"

Something about the new vampire's voice struck a chord in William, and he focused harder on his face. What he saw sent a wave a shock through his entire body. There was the bronze-colored hair, so like his, the face that he thought he would never see again, identical to the one in his memories apart from the missing slight blemishes he remembered. But Edward was dead. He had been dead for ninety years.

"There's no reason for all of us to crowd into a warehouse," said the Cullen, ignoring Felix. "They wait outside on Carlisle's orders."

Carlisle. Carlisle Cullen. William had heard that name before. A faint idea struggled against the numbness that had settled over his mind, but William quashed it. Edward was dead, Edward was dead, Edward was dead.

_Your brother is dead_, the werewolf had said. That meant something. William obliterated that thought as well.

_Why so tense?_ asked Felix.

Demetri suddenly looked between the Cullen and William, and a strange expression came across his face. William realized that the Cullen was now staring at him, a puzzled expression in his topaz eyes. "You know me," the Cullen said, his voice flat, as if he were stating a fact. "But how?"

He could read minds. As their eyes met, William felt a jolt of certainty – somehow, this was Edward, his Edward. All reason disappeared within him as a wave of hatred surged through him. Edward had abandoned him, not just by "dying," which was to a degree not his fault, but he had abandoned him consciously. Had William not been worth enough coming back for, or at least protecting? Even if they had never met again, the Edward that William had thought he had known would have at least protected William from Henry.

"Cousin Henry?" murmured Edward, and the confusion in his voice infuriated William further. How could he pretend to be so confused? He knew how terrible Henry was.

Edward needed to learn some guilt for what he had done to William. By now, he had figured out that his brother could read minds. If Edward didn't feel guilty now, William would _make_ him feel guilty. With vicious enthusiasm, William allowed his memories to come to the surface for the first time in ninety years.

It hurt him so much to willingly pull the memories out of his mind, almost as if he were tearing pieces of himself off. He grit his teeth and mentally thrust them at Edward.

"_I promise." Edward's green eyes, just like Will's, were serious. "And I'll always be there for you, Will. Because we're brothers."_

There was a strangled cry, half-whimper, half-sob. William wasn't sure if he or Edward had made the sound.

"_You promised," repeated Will, sobbing. "You can't break promises. You said you'd always be there for me."_

Someone was screaming.

_Henry was shoving him against the wall. "I saw the sweets the shopkeeper slipped to you today. You shouldn't be allowed sweets, since my parents and I took you in. You definitely owe me something. Now give them to me."_

"_N-No." Will hadn't had sweets in so long, not since his family had died. Every treat handed to him ended up in the hands of his cousin. But the shopkeeper had known about this, and he had surreptitiously given Will the candy. And now Henry was taking it away._

_His cousin's fist came out of nowhere and made contact with his face. The back of his head hit the brick wall behind it, and he fell into the dirt. He felt the candy leave his limp fingers, and heard his cousin whisper maliciously, "Too bad your family didn't care enough for you to live." Then there was blackness._

It was a howl of grief, rage, and pain. _So much pain_, thought William vaguely.

"_You weren't worth staying for," the image of Edward hissed maliciously, his expression twisted and cruel. "I'm glad I left you."_

Edward_, William mouthed, unable to make any noise. His pain tripled, until there was no way it could get worse. And then it somehow, it doubled again as Edward touched his face mockingly. His hand was like a metal poker right out of the fire._

The screams continued, and William realized _he_ was the one making the noise. But he couldn't stop. Across from him, Edward had sunk to his knees, his expression one of intense suffering, his breathing labored as he clutched his heart.

_William couldn't take it anymore. He pounced on Ralph in the middle of the street, a growl escaping from his throat, and bit down hard on the other man's throat. The liquid that came out was sweet, better than anything he had ever tasted before, and he drank greedily, mangling the body of his victim. He sucked every last drop of the heavenly liquid out and let go of the body. It fell to the ground with a thud._

He couldn't do it anymore. He fell to the ground, his throat raw, his breathing erratic. Then his entire body began to shake as he began to weep, but there were no tears to bring relief.

Demetri spoke, but his voice was a dull, incomprehensible murmur in William's ears. There was only the sound of his sobs, with a roaring noise behind them. He glanced up, and it was like Edward was the only other person in the world with him. Edward's expression was one of extreme horror and… confusion. A glimmer of recognition flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a moment, and William realized that he had been wrong. Edward had not abandoned him. No, worse, he had forgotten him.

William himself had forgotten many things over the years, but the important things from his human life remained, and he was sure they always would. But Edward did not remember him. He now realized that before, he had hoped that maybe Edward would embrace him, tell him that he had thought William was dead, or that he had searched far and wide but had never found him. But now, it had been confirmed: William had never been important enough to Edward for Edward to remember him.

It felt as though his heart had been smashed. He felt actual physical pain in his heart as a numbness settled over the rest of him. He ceased weeping, a blankness coming over his emotions, his heart the only thing within him that still felt. Standing up, his expression unreadable, he stared down at the tortured-looking Edward, ignoring the others, who were still trying to figure out what was going on.

Demetri reached for William's arm. "I believe Aro knew this would happen. But not that he would not remember you," he spat with disgust. "His own… brother?"

William shook his head, unconsciously recoiling from the other Volturi guard. He began backing away from Edward, then toward the doors, shaking his head. "He's not my brother. Not anymore. We're dead to each other," he whispered. "Not my brother."

He turned and was out the doors before anyone could stop him or even react. The mist had given way to rain, but William didn't notice as the raindrops fell on him as he sprinted away, his mind empty except for one thought. _I've got to get away_. His heart was hurting more with every step he took, but he knew that if he stayed, he would have died from the pain, even though he was supposed to be immortal.

"Edward?" asked an incredulous voice as he rushed past a large group of vampires standing in the shadows outside.

"I'm not—" William choked out, but he was unable to finish the sentence. He pushed past a familiar-looking man – no, vampire. Carlisle Cullen. It all fit now. Edward _had_ been alive. But Dr. Cullen had known William needed Edward. A horrible realization entered William's head. Perhaps Edward, intent on saving his own life, hadn't cared about William at all. Maybe he had found out Dr. Cullen's secret and begged him to change him, without any thought about what would happen to his brother.

William stumbled away, sure that it was what had happened. After all, he wasn't important enough to Edward for Edward to remember him. No one had cared about William. No one did 

care about him, he realized bitterly. Not Edward, not his family, not Helen, not the Volturi. Bianca said she loved him, but did she really? If she had, why had she damned him to this half-life, in which he was doomed to know for eternity that no one loved him?

A thought that was both wonderful and horrifying popped into his mind suddenly. Was he doomed for eternity to suffer under this knowledge? Vampires could not commit suicide. At least… not by themselves. He ran on, a plan beginning to bloom as he did so, ignoring the confused shouts behind him. He picked up speed – though Demetri and Felix didn't care about William himself, William's power was still useful to the Volturi. But William had made up his mind. He was going to die, and no one could stop him. He had always been extremely fast, even for a vampire. No one else had ever managed to catch up when he ran at full speed.

The others would not aid him. The Volturi, as he had realized before, wanted his gift, so even if he tried something stupid, like show himself in Volterra in an attempt to get them to kill him, they would reach him before he managed to do so. Edward, he knew, would be too _honorable_ to kill someone like him, someone who hadn't done anything to him. William toyed with the idea of attacking Bella, but that wouldn't work, either. Bella could probably hold her own, and they'd probably subdue William before handing him to the Volturi. The other Cullens were probably the same way.

He could find some other vampires, of course. Or – and the thought rose as quickly as the first – there were _them_. The werewolves would be all too happy to aid a vampire toward his death. Yes, the pack he had just met hours before would do perfectly.

The rain fell heavier as he changed course slightly, sprinting with new purpose. It drenched his clothes and hair, and William felt as if it were washing away his pain. A grim smile appeared on his lips, and a wave of calmness settled over him. Soon, it would all be over.

He smelled them far before he saw them. The scent grew stronger, until it became overbearing, and he could sense the werewolves waiting behind the trees. He stopped. The clearing was empty, but he knew they could see him. This would have to be done quickly, before the other vampires could catch up.

Most of the pack appeared in wolf form, though there were two humans in the front. One was the leader, the other the one called Jacob, clearly his second-in-command. Their faces were blank, their eyes coal black with hostility in the moonlight. "We thought we told you to leave," hissed Jacob, his blank expression giving way to one of hatred.

"What are you here for?" asked the leader, snarling.

William just smiled, and with a smooth motion, yanked off the charm from around his neck. He let it fall into the dirt next to his feet. Then he stretched his arms wide, baring his chest, his smile becoming beatific as he closed his eyes.

In that moment, he could hear everything around him as if the world knew it was the last time he would hear those sounds. The heavy panting of the wolves, the calls of animals far away, even 

the sound of night, which William had not even known had existed before. It was simply indescribable.

And then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, raw emotion pouring into each syllable.

"Kill me. Please."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Crazy emotions in this chapter, no? Jasper must have been quite overwhelmed, standing outside the warehouse. Anyway, I hope the second half of the chapter wasn't too unbelievable for you; I'm worried that William made the transition from angry to extremely sad too quickly, but then again, his mind is very irrational at the moment. Hope you liked the flashbacks, too -- most of them are reminders of past chapters, but see if you can spot the new one! Hehe.

Hmm... what else did I want to say? Well, of course, thank you to my reviewers from last chapter! I hope this lived up to your expectations. From this point on, I have no definite plans for the direction this fic heads in, since I never really planned in the definite past this point, haha. I wanted to reward reviewers this chapter with a side story I wrote (got the idea from another author), but the side story isn't done, because my week was awfully hectic, so maybe next time. But of course, as always, please review, even if it's just a word or two.

Um... hmm. I KNOW that there was something else, but I just can't remember, so I'll let you know next chapter. For now, the excerpt:

_His brother turned to leave again, but William stopped him by speaking. "If you're not going to kill me," he said hollowly, "I'm not coming. I'm going back to the wolves."_

Short, yes, but I couldn't think of anything else that would sound okay out of context. Heh. All right, back to doing laundry.

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	15. A Favor

**Author's Note: **Ahhh, I'm so sorry! I meant to post this Friday night, as usual, but then I completely forgot. Then, on Saturday, I forgot again, and then today, just as I was about to post this chapter, a couple of my friends came by and asked me to help them with their short film. So when I came back and saw my documents folder open and all ready, I was like, headdesk Well, here it is. I've tortured you all long enough.

Thanks for all the reviews last chapter; I'm glad that it lived up to your expectations, as it was the scene you were all waiting for.

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ and its characters/settings do not belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: A Favor**

They say that one's life flashes before one's eyes before death.

William wasn't sure if that applied to vampires or not, but he was eager to find out. Why wasn't anything happening, though? He would have thought the werewolves would have jumped at the chance to rip apart a vampire. He opened his eyes a crack. Jacob and the leader stared at him, shock evident on their faces. "Well?" he drawled lazily, closing his eyes again.

"Will!"

How many times had he heard that voice, calling from outside the schoolyard? Every day, Edward would stop at William's school, which ended half an hour after his did, to pick up his younger brother. William loved that time of day the best, because every day, all his friends would stare enviously at the tall, good-looking, _older_ boy who William got to claim as his brother. Edward had been the oldest out of all William's friends' brothers.

Perhaps vampires heard their pasts as well as saw them.

"Will!"

The shout was louder this time, and William frowned. Why was it getting louder? And why was it taking him so long to die? If he was hearing his past, surely the werewolves were tearing him to pieces right now? He opened his eyes. None of the wolves had moved.

"Will!"

William's vampire vision was just able to detect a blur of white bursting out of the trees, and then Edward was there, standing between him and the werewolves. For a moment, no one moved or spoke, but then Jacob began to shake. The leader put a restraining hand on his arm, and he stopped, pulling his arm away as soon as he did so with a snarl. "Cullen," he snapped.

"Jacob Black," said Edward coolly, a slight derisiveness underlying his otherwise calm greeting. He nodded, much more politely, at the leader. "Sam."

Sam nodded back curtly. "Edward."

William watched this scene with incredulity. Why was Edward on, if not cordial, peaceful terms with the werewolves? Werewolves were their natural enemies. "Explain," continued Jacob. His control seemingly only allowed for one word at a time.

"This is…" Edward glanced at William, and William noticed that his eyes still held no recognition for him. His stomach dropped; for a brief, shining moment, he had dared to hope that Edward would tell him that it had been a mistake, that it had been shock only in his eyes in the warehouse, or that he had remembered William again, that he had been struck by amnesia or something.

"Your brother?" Jacob answered for him, and William felt a rush of shame. A werewolf recognized him as such, but his brother did not. He truly had no reason to exist. "I guessed as much." He nudged the discarded charm on the ground with his foot.

"How did you know my name?" whispered William.

Edward looked up into his eyes, and he recoiled. His brother's topaz colored eyes burned with cold hatred. Hatred, not just confusion or shock. "Your memories," he answered, his voice flat, even wooden. It was like William was trying to extract his answer from him forcibly. William looked away, unable to meet his eyes anymore.

_Why do you hate me so?_ he cried inwardly, unable to help himself, and he cringed at the pathetic whine in his thought.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, as if he couldn't stand the sight of him any longer, before turning to face the werewolves again. "Will you leave him in my care, rather than obey his request?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"You didn't even know his name?" asked Jacob, his eyebrow raised. "What kind of brother are you?" He snorted. "No wonder he wanted to die. We'd be doing him a favor, really, if we killed him. Both of you would be happier."

"Please," whispered Edward, and William wondered why there was such desperation in his voice. Maybe Edward wanted to kill him himself. He hadn't thought so before, but now that he had seen the hatred in his brother's eyes, he thought that might be the case. Why did Edward hate him so much? Was it for disturbing his oh-so-perfect ignorance?

"He's a danger to us," said Sam gravely. "If word gets out about us to your Volturi…"

"I'll vouch for him," said Edward hurriedly. "I promise the Volturi will not hear about you. Treat him as a Cullen in your enforcement of the treaty."

"You broke the treaty when you killed Bella," snarled Jacob, and he began to shake again.

Edward opened his mouth to reply, but Sam beat him to it. "She wished it," he murmured calmly, his gaze intense as he stared down the other werewolf. "And she was a Cullen when she was turned." He smiled grimly at Edward. "I admire your perceptiveness. That was a pretty subtle loophole. Maybe not even one, but I guess we'll give it to you. As a Cullen, she technically no longer belonged to neutral territory."

"Doesn't mean we should let him have _him_," said Jacob, nodding at William, who was still trying to figure out what treaty they were talking about. He didn't know anything about a treaty between vampires and werewolves, and he doubted the Volturi did either.

"Haven't we worked together before, and built some trust?" said Edward quietly. "I ask one favor, and that is it. I am willing to pay a price for it… name it."

Jacob grimaced, and then his face became resolute. "I want to see Bella," he said hoarsely, and his voice no longer sounded cold, but like that of a boy in pain. "I don't care if she's one of you… I just want to see her again."

Edward glanced at William again, and William quickly averted his eyes to avoid looking at his face, afraid of what he'd see. He didn't know why Edward was so determined to kill him rather than let the werewolves do it; it ended with the same outcome. "Fine," he said coolly. "But I'm not the one to ask permission from. If she wishes to see you, she will see you. She is in Port Angeles at the moment with her father."

"Charlie?" asked Jacob, surprised.

"You'll find that Charlie was in a bit of trouble. My family is there; hopefully, Bella will agree to see you before they hurt you." Edward grinned at the werewolf. It was nearly feral.

Jacob did not need further encouragement. He disappeared into the trees, and a moment later, they heard a howl and a slight rustling of leaves as he ran toward Port Angeles.

Sam nodded at his pack, and one by one, the wolves slinked away into the forest. He turned to face the vampires again, his mouth set in a straight line. "We… thank you for giving Jacob this chance," he said. "His suffering has been our suffering for so long. Maybe now he will get closure."

Edward nodded to accept the thanks. "You'll leave Will in our care, then?"

"Yes." Sam looked intensely at William once more. "But we trust you to silence him should the need arise."

Edward tensed, and for a moment, William thought he was going to reply angrily. Perhaps he would tell Sam that they didn't even intend for the need to arise; he would kill William anyway. But then he relaxed. "Without a doubt," he murmured, his tone icy.

The werewolf hesitated, then nodded at both of the vampires before he too melted into the trees. There was a soft rustling as he and the pack, which had been waiting for him, left.

William realized that he and Edward were alone together for the first time in over ninety years. He hadn't even thought they would have this meeting, and now that they were together again, he wished they had never met again. For over eighty years, all William had wanted was to see Edward, even if on the surface, he had tried to convince himself to hate Edward for leaving him. But now all he wanted was that blissful ignorance again, because now he _knew_ that Edward hated him, that perhaps he had always thought of William as nothing but a pesky little tag-along. William's own anger had been replaced by despair.

His brother, if he could call him that still, turned finally to face him, and he was relieved to see that Edward's eyes no longer burned with hate. Instead, they were carefully guarded, betraying no emotion at all. "Let's go, Will," he said.

"William," replied William. "No one has called me Will since I was a child," he added bitterly, twisting the knife in his own chest. His aunt and uncle had done so for a while, but really, it had been his parents' and Edward's nickname for him, and they had stopped once they realized it hurt William to hear it.

Edward stared at him for a long moment, his expression blank. Behind him, the sky was slowly starting to lighten, though the rain, which William hadn't really noticed for a while, continued to fall. The night was ending. "Let's go, William," he said finally. He glanced at the charm on the ground. William didn't move to get it, so he picked it up and put it in his pocket.

They set off at slightly faster than a human pace, William following his brother to an unknown location. He didn't understand why Edward couldn't just kill him in the woods, but maybe he had a symbolic place to kill him or something.

Edward's phone rang, and he picked it up. His words were muffled by the rain, so William couldn't catch much of his conversation. When he hung up, he changed direction slightly and informed William, "Bella says they're going back to our house."

_They have a house?_ thought William, and he realized how little he knew about Edward now. His lips twisted into a bitter smile. Not that it really mattered; Edward was going to kill him.

Edward sighed and stopped. "Let me set the record straight," he said, his eyes now frustrated. "I've been hoping you would realize on your own that I don't want to kill you, nor do I hate you, but unfortunately, you're a bit like Bella in that respect."

William wasn't sure what he meant, exactly, but he automatically blocked his thoughts and snarled, "My thoughts are my own."

Edward's expression closed again, and he replied coldly, "I can't help it, you know. And besides," he added snidely, "you were all too eager to share before." As soon as the words left his mouth, he flinched and looked away guiltily. William was careful not to let his thoughts past the Charleston, which he was humming in his mind to keep Edward out. It seemed almost macabre that he was using such an upbeat song in this situation, but it always managed to distract him from his thoughts in the past, when he needed a last resort.

His brother turned to leave again, but William stopped him by speaking. "If you're not going to kill me," he said hollowly, "I'm not coming. I'm going back to the wolves."

Edward looked frustrated and even guiltier at the same time. William wondered what he was feeling so guilty about; he hadn't been like that before. "Don't be ridiculous," he said. "We're going to go back, and we're going to talk about this. There's no need for you to die."

William snorted as he remembered what Demetri had told him about the Cullen in Volterra. It had been Edward, of course. "If I'm correct, _you_ aren't exactly the most qualified person to say that," he retorted.

"No, I'm not," said Edward quietly, and his voice was gentle. "But please, I know I was being stupid back then, and I beg you not to do the same thing. As a brother."

For a moment, William wished _he_ was the one who could read minds, rather than Edward. He couldn't figure out what his brother was thinking at all. "One who doesn't remember," he said cautiously after a long pause.

"But a brother nonetheless."

The rain began to fall even harder as they stared into each others' eyes: one pair almost yellow, the other a dark burgundy. Finally, William slumped. "Very well. I'll come."

* * *

**Author's Note:** You all didn't think I'd actually kill William, did you? He's my main character! Or at least one of them. :)

Hmm... if only William could read Edward's mind. Poor William. He wants so hard to believe that Edward cares about him, but can't bring himself to. I am such an evil author to my characters, really. But at least Jacob gets some happiness. The werewolves are important, especially if there's a sequel to this fic (I have an idea, but I'm not sure if I want to go through with it).

Oh, and I'm toying with the idea of bringing the Charleston into this (might not make much sense now, but the fic will get lighter in the future). For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about and why Will thinks it's macabre that he's using that particular song, this is the Charleston: www(dot)youtube(dot)com(slash)watch?vZJC21zzkwoE. Careful, it gets stuck in your head easily.

Please review, even though I am an evil author...

Excerpt time:

_A year and a half ago, this would have made me fight harder for her, or at least goad me into jealousy. But now, I felt my body calm, and my heart warmed. She was happy. That was all I could ask for now. "Good," I replied. "Good."_

The next chapter signals the beginning of a series of interludes. Honestly, I think there might be more interludes than actual chapters in this fic. Heh.


	16. Interlude, Part One: Jacob

**Author's Note:** First off, apologies for worrying some of you with the preview last time. When I posted it, I thought it was clear that the excerpt was not from Edward's point of view, but that might have been because I knew whose POV it actually was, hehe. But come on, did you actually think I would make Edward suffer? :)

So for those of you who guessed Jacob: you were right. Of course, I think I've covered Jacob-lovers and haters alike with this interlude... both of you should end up pretty happy at what happens, I think. If that's possible.

Thanks for the reviews last chapter, and hopefully, you enjoy this one as well. And congratulations to **Silver Night** for being the 200th reviewer! I've never gotten that many reviews on .

**Disclaimer:** If _Twilight_ belonged to me, I would have enough money to not be sitting in my dorm at 10:00 on a Friday night.

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**Interlude, Part One: Jacob**

I ran as quickly as I could toward Port Angeles, the scent of bloodsuckers concentrated together growing stronger with every scent I took. I wrinkled my nose in disgust but kept going – Bella was with them, and though she was one of them, I had long realized that didn't matter to me anymore.

When I got to the abandoned warehouses on the sketchy side of town, the military one, Casper, or whatever his name was, sensed me first. He tensed and nudged his mate, the tiny one. I phased back and put on my shorts, stepping out behind a warehouse. The vampires gave me some grace time to explain myself, so I took advantage of that. Even I wasn't strong enough to take down all of them single-handedly.

"I'm here to see Bella. _He_ told me she was here," I said.

The giant one, the one called Mutt or something, grunted, "Why should we let you see her?"

I smirked. "Your brother had to call in a favor. Apparently, suicidal tendencies run in the family."

"Jacob?" Her voice, always like music to my ears, was even more beautiful, but distant, as if it wasn't really coming from this world. I looked past Mutt and Casper to drink in the sight of Bella, standing outside the doors of a warehouse, her expression one of shock.

The rain didn't seem to even touch her as she strode towards me, her dark hair flying out behind her, framing her pale face, even paler than before. Her eyes slowly shifted from the strange yellow color they had been to pitch black. She hungered to see me. I stared back into her eyes, noting how her girl-next-door prettiness had turned into ethereal beauty, her features sharpened and perfected. Then I noticed the crescent-shaped scar at the base of her neck, and a growl escaped my throat.

She stopped when she heard it, flinching away. I calmed myself, struggling against my body, which was telling me to _phase, phase, phase_. No, I needed this. I needed to talk to Bella. I couldn't see her as a bloodsucker.

It was hard, but I moved forward, every wolfish instinct in my body telling me to attack her, since she was my enemy. Her scent wasn't as bad as the others', though. It was like her old one, like freesias, just a little too sickeningly sweet. It burned my nose slightly, sort of like the burn you get when you breathe outside on a very cold day. She watched my approach warily, and slowly, I reached her. Then I pushed down my instincts and hugged her.

She was ice cold compared to before. It was almost like hugging marble, but I clenched my eyes shut and shook as her arms slowly wrapped around me as well, hugging back tentatively at first, then forcefully. It began to hurt from all the pressure – something I had never experienced before – but I didn't want to tell her to stop. I didn't realize that I was crying until noticed that tears 

were mixing with the rain on my face. Bella was also shaking, but I knew that there were no tears coming from her eyes, and there never would be again.

She was dead, even though she stood here with me, and that made my heart tear in two. I buried my head in her hair, trying to make myself believe that what I was smelling was her old strawberry shampoo mixed with that ever present whiff of freesias, rather than this sickening scent. She wasn't breathing, obviously avoiding my scent, which must have been unbearable to her nose.

We stood there for the longest time, the rain pouring down on us as we clung to each other. It didn't even occur to me to feel smug that she was with me rather than with _him_, because I knew he had her now forever. "Are you happy with him?" I whispered through my tears, my voice choked.

"I am, Jacob," she whispered back. "Happier than I could have ever imagined."

A year and a half ago, this would have made me fight harder for her, or at least goad me into jealousy. But now, I felt my body calm, and my heart warmed. She was happy. That was all I could ask for now. "Good," I replied. "Good."

My heart still ached, but there was no fury in it now, no envy. There was a hole, but I knew it would never be mended. Bella seemed to sense this. "I'll always love you, Jacob, in some way," she said, her voice wobbling. "You were there when I needed it the most."

"We've had this conversation before," I replied sadly. "I trust you. I knew that before you said it." I sighed. "I just needed to know that you were happy." I released myself from her grip and backed away slowly, a melancholy smile on my face. "If you ever need anything, let me know. I'll always be here for you."

"No, Jacob," she said. "Don't wait for me. Please, be happy. You can't do that if you're resolved to live for eternity for me."

"Are you telling me to go die?" I asked, injecting a bit of humor into my voice. She scowled at me, and for a moment, it was like it was before. But I didn't try to kid myself. "I want to wait, Bella," I said, more seriously. "Let me do what I want. You know where I am if you ever need me."

"Jacob?" a voice called from behind Bella. It was Charlie, looking utterly lost and scared, shivering between two of the vampires we had cornered earlier. I tensed. We had told them to leave. What were they doing here, and why did they have Charlie? Charlie stared at me as if I was a lifeboat, and he was drowning in an ocean. "Jacob, do you know what's going on?" His voice was nearing hysterical.

"We can handle it," said Bella levelly, clearly able to read my intentions toward the two strange bloodsuckers. "Don't get the pack involved; it will make it worse."

"They've got Charlie! That's violating the treaty!"

"Please, Jacob. If you get involved, it'll only upset him more. He already knows that there's something not right about me and the others. He needs to think that you, at least, are normal."

I stared down at her for the longest time, then said lightly, "Sure, sure. I won't tell Sam or the others. You do realize that I can't transform until he's safe, then, right?" I sighed. It made me feel really uneasy, even though it _was_ Bella's father, and she was here to help him. "Billy will murder me if anything happens to him."

"He's my father, Jacob," said Bella, annoyed. "If anything happens to him…" She trailed off. "We'll be gone soon," she added. "The vampires over there, the Volturi… I think they want us to go to Italy with them."

"Jacob?" repeated Charlie.

"Hello, Charlie," I called back. I turned back to Bella. "You do realize you'll have to come up with something if you want me to appear normal, right? I mean, I'm not supposed to know you're… you know."

"I'll come up with something," she replied.

I stared at her face one last time, memorizing it, then turned. "I'll see you around," I said lightly, though I was anything but light-hearted.

"Bye," she replied.

And then I was running through the warehouses and then the woods as quickly as I could on two legs.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Yeah, I'm sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but there are a few loose ends I wanted to tie up in Forks before we shifted focus entirely onto William and Edward. One of them was Jacob; I couldn't just leave him hanging there. Oh, and I had lots of fun with "Mutt and Casper" and the whole writing in Jacob's POV thing...

Not much else to say, so please review!

Excerpt... you get two, because I can't decide:

_I glared at Demetri, and for the quickest moment, I saw my cousin Henry's face. To hell with what Carlisle said._

_Without consciously deciding to, I moved in between the two of them. "That is enough," I hissed. "You don't know what happened."_

and

_"Bella." Charlie looked frightened, but there was a new light of understanding in his eyes. He seemed to know that it was the truth; we were all vampires. "Bella, I don't want you to get hurt. Please, don't worry about me. I… I think I know what happened, and I'm just happy to see that you're still alive."_

Uh oh. What's Demetri doing? And what will happen to Charlie? I am evil. I really am.


	17. Interlude, Part Two: Edward

**Author's Note:** Friday night update, albeit a week late. :) Anyway, sorry for the wait... I had and still have writer's block -- I want to write, but when I sit down, nothing good comes out. So it's possible that updates will be slower, since I like to keep ahead of schedule. Having a chapter written early helps me keep the story going.

Thanks for the reviews last chapter!

**Disclaimer: **See another chapter. I'm too lazy right now.

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**Interlude, Part Two: Edward**

William was still humming that infernal Charleston tune in his head when we reached the house. By now, I was sure that even if he hadn't flung his memories at me, I would have realized that he was my younger brother. No one but a younger brother could be, or mean to be, so annoying.

But at the very least, I deserved to listen to the Charleston for the rest of my existence, then. I had forgotten my own brother and hadn't even remembered him after seeing his face in a photograph or even in person, something that should never be forgiven. I could only hope that he would choose to anyway, not that he ought to.

As if sensing my guilt, he began humming out loud as well as in his mind. He continued humming, even as we entered the house and met the others, who were gathered in the living room.

"Stop," I murmured, and he stopped humming out loud, but not in his head. I sighed. I didn't have the right to ask him for more.

_What happened, Edward? All the dog would tell us was that he went to them_, asked Alice.

The Charleston was really starting to get to me. I couldn't even block it out if I wanted to, since he was being so insistent that I hear it. Then again, I _had_ forgotten him, my own brother. A very ungracious part of me wondered if it was because he had been so annoying during our life together. I quashed that thought quickly.

I shook my head at Alice. I would tell them later. Right now, we had to deal with the Volturi and Charlie, because it was clear they had divulged our secret to him. And the Volturi were always careful with what they thought were liabilities.

"We were wondering where you went off to," said Demetri to William. The two Volturi guards were standing in a corner, across from my family. William joined them there, dripping all over Esme's rug as he did so. As he passed Charlie, who was huddled in a large pile of blankets on the sofa, Charlie flinched. _What's going on?_ he wondered desperately. I could tell he was at the brink of insanity.

Bella moved over to where I was and wrapped her arms around my drenched form. Together, we stood exactly halfway between my family and the Volturi.

"I fancied a bit of a run," said William lightly, his expression carefully schooled.

_Towards werewolves?_ thought Felix in Italian. _Because you stink of them_.

William shrugged. "Perhaps." He was well aware, I was sure, of disobeying the Volturi. Trying to get himself killed clearly was defined as disobeying the Volturi.

_Damn him!_ snarled Demetri in his thoughts. He pinned William against the wall and lapsed into Italian, which came more naturally to him than English. "_Do you realize what would have happened to us, you imbecile? By letting you die, the Volturi would have lost your power. Aro would have punished us both greatly. If it wasn't for his displeasure, and if you didn't have a mate to avenge you, I would kill you myself_." There was a flash of white, a crunching sound, and then a cry of pain. "_A reminder of what would have happened to us had you succeeded_." There was a livid white wound on William's neck, from which clear venom leaked.

Up until now, I had felt only guilt for forgetting William. It had overwhelmed everything else – relief that Bella and the rest of my family was safe, that Charlie was confused but still alive, that William himself was still walking the earth. But an irrational urge of wanting… no, _needing_ to protect rose up within me. I had never felt it before, except with Bella, but this was different. The need to protect thrummed through my veins, as if it traveled through my non-existent blood.

_No, Edward. This is between them_, warned Carlisle, and I managed to hold myself in check, though barely.

William was breathing heavily, clearly in pain. I could tell Demetri was actually holding him up. Vampires are resistant to most things, but when something manages to actually hurt us, our tolerance for it is low. "_Do so. Kill me. Aro's punishment can't matter too much for someone who has eternity to live, like us. And as for Bianca… I'm sure you could claim I fell for Bella, and Edward killed me in a fit of rage. She knows I don't love her._"

His voice was callous and bitter. I flinched, both at the lack of concern and for the pain hiding beneath the cold veneer.

"There will be no killing here," said Carlisle softly, but his tone was intense. All of us turned to look at him, even Charlie, who looked even more bewildered than I thought possible.

Demetri scoffed, then let William drop to the floor. I tried to catch William's eye, but he avoided looking at anyone. "Of course not," he drawled, though his voice still shook with anger, his foreign accent a little more pronounced. "We are not barbarians, Carlisle."

"Besides, Demetri," sneered William from the floor, his face now twisted into an ugly smirk, "I got the feeling you figured out what was coming. Perhaps you ought to have warned me."

"Would you have believed me, you fool?" hissed Demetri in reply. "In any case, a rational mind would be _happy_ to find long-lost family. A rational mind would not become _suicidal_."

I glared at Demetri, and for the quickest moment, I saw my cousin Henry's face. To hell with what Carlisle said.

Without consciously deciding to, I moved in between the two of them. "That is enough," I hissed. "You don't know what happened."

Behind me, William twitched. He had Demetri's venom inside of him, venom that didn't belong to him, and it was beginning to do its work on him. Foreign venom caused echoes of the pain felt during transformations. No doubt that was the method the Volturi used to torture when Jane's unauthentic method wasn't enough.

Demetri looked ready to retaliate, but he realized he still needed us to cooperate. _If Aro didn't require your presence in Volterra, Cullen_… he snarled in his mind. "I apologize," he said stiffly. "You must not hold it against us, however. He is one of ours."

Charlie stared wide-eyed at the scene before him. He grasped at the only thing that seemed even remotely normal to him. "Bella, honey, what's going on?" His voice reached new levels of desperation.

Felix looked amused. "Haven't we already told you, Charles Swan?"

Charlie shook his head slowly. "No, you're insane," he muttered. _Vampires_… _he even bit the other one…_

He knew. Before that, I had hoped he didn't, that perhaps the Volturi were being considerate. But one human didn't matter to them; they would kill him afterwards so that he wouldn't spill our secret. "You probably have realized what we want," said Demetri to Carlisle. "As soon as we have prepared for our journey and taken care of him" – he nodded at Charlie – "we wish for all of you to follow us to Volterra."

"No!" screamed Bella, throwing herself in front of Charlie.

"No," I repeated, moving to stand in front of her. "He doesn't believe you. There is no need."

Bella was outraged. "Even if he did believe them, I wouldn't let them kill him!" she snapped, glaring at me.

I couldn't retaliate out loud, and I wished she could read my mind. An idea struck me – she could, but there was the possibility she would be able to do so for longer than I wanted. But this was worth more than the risk. I concentrated on reading her mind. She looked confused for a moment, then understood. I felt her presence in my mind. _Be reasonable_, I said. _Pretend to play on their terms; they'll be more likely to agree_.

"Bella." Charlie looked frightened, but there was a new light of understanding in his eyes. He seemed to know that it was the truth; we were all vampires. "Bella, I don't want you to get hurt. Please, don't worry about me. I… I think I know what happened, and I'm just happy to see that you're still alive."

I felt admiration greater than anything before for Charlie. He had always been a good man, but to take the truth so calmly and to put his daughter before him…

Bella ignored him. She whirled on me, scowling. "Be reasonable!" she shrieked. I had never seen her this angry before, at least not at me. Jacob, possibly. The thought made me wince. "He's my _father_! He's your father too, in a way!"

We could not be having our first spat now. Two of my fingers automatically pinched the bridge of my nose while the other hand ran through my hair in agitation. I began to pace. What could I do so that she wasn't angry at me anymore? I couldn't stand the unhappiness on her face. My heart couldn't bear it.

She must have taken my worry as impatience, though. "I can't believe it," she muttered, glaring at me. I caught a glimpse of Rosalie's face. She looked amused. Bella turned to Demetri. "I will not come with you if you don't leave my father alone," she said.

"Bella!" I wailed. What if she got hurt?

_Calm down, Edward_, said Jasper, sending a wave of calm. _You're a ball of nerves._

"We could force you," said Felix matter-of-factly. "It doesn't make a difference to us."

"But then you risk hurting me. I don't think Aro will be pleased then," she replied smugly. I groaned.

Demetri and Felix looked at each other. _What do we do?_ asked Felix.

"Very well," said Demetri after a long pause. "We will allow him to live. Only because he is your father, and revealing your secret would not be in his interests. Though I don't know why you insist on holding onto your human ties."

He turned to Carlisle. "There is a flight later this morning out of Seattle, and it connects in New York. I suggest you and your family hunt before the journey. I will bring the human back to his home." Bella opened her mouth, but he interrupted her. "You may come along, Bella," he added hurriedly. "If you do not trust me."

She nodded curtly, then followed him out of the room, her arm around Charlie. I watched them go, my dead heart slumping when she didn't even look back.

_Let's go, Edward_, said Carlisle gently. _We should hunt_. Felix had disappeared. I didn't want to think about where he had gone. He wouldn't dare hunt near the werewolves, but the idea of a strange vampire hunting humans near us sickened me.

I shook my head, wanting to think for a moment. Bella hadn't looked back. I heard the others leaving, then opened my eyes, which had been squeezed shut after Bella had left. I glanced at the corner across from me, where William was slumped, his eyes shut, his teeth clenched against the pain. It was just the two of us now.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Oh no! Bella's mad at Edward! (Don't worry, she won't run after Jacob.) But on the upside, Edward and William will be having their conversation soon...

Yeah, I really am not in the mood to type up a long author's note like usual, as you can tell. There's some RL stuff going on in my life right now... nothing too bad, but it's put me in a constant bad mood.

Please review!

Excerpt:

_"So," said Charlie in what he thought was a jovial tone. "That's why you got married so early. Is there a bonding ritual or something involved in that? In turning into a vampire?"_


	18. Interlude, Part Three: Bella

**Author's Note:** A million, bazillion apologies -- I thought I had posted this chapter already, and I was hesitant to post what I thought would be the next chapter, but it turns out I've had this chapter ready to go the entire time! Anyway, you lovely people finally got me to check on this fic again. My first thought upon seeing that I hadn't posted this yet was, "Did a chapter get deleted?" followed by, "(&#Z#)!!"

This isn't the chapter you've all been waiting for (besides the fact that it's been a month and a half, but content-wise...). That would be next chapter, which I have to fix up, since I really want to change the chapters after that and write some more. I don't know if this fic will be finished before _Breaking Dawn_, but if it isn't, I suppose I'll have to include some of the new stuff. Then again, there is still a month and a half. Heh.

Thank you to my reviewers: it was you all who finally got me to check on my fic.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Twilight_, its characters, or anything like that.

* * *

**Interlude, Part Three: Bella**

I couldn't believe it.

_Be reasonable_. I couldn't believe Edward had said that. As if it wasn't reasonable for me to protect my father, to save his life! A part deep inside me was crushed – we had never argued before like that – and wondered why I didn't just admit that Edward wasn't actually trying to say that Charlie should die, but just to be careful. But that part of me was very deep down at the moment.

Charlie and I were outside of the house I had only spent about two years of my life in, but it had felt like my real home nevertheless. Demetri waited in the car while we said our goodbyes. I didn't want to go inside; I knew that if I did, I would never want to leave.

"You're happy, Bella?" asked Charlie suddenly as we reached the front door. We had remained silent on the ride here. It was more comfortable that way for the both of us. It was what we were used to.

I thought of Edward, pinching his nose in impatience earlier, but then I realized that it didn't matter. We had fought, but I still loved him just as much. "Yes," I whispered. It was what I had told Jacob earlier, and it was true.

There was a pause. "So," said Charlie in what he thought was a jovial tone. "That's why you got married so early. Is there a bonding ritual or something involved in that? In turning into a vampire?"

"No," I replied. "He wanted to make sure I really wanted to become one. He didn't want me to make a mistake." I looked into his lost but no longer confused eyes. He was out of his depth, but he wasn't shocked. "You seem to be taking the existence of vampires pretty easily," I ventured. "Considering we're supposed to be monsters from mythology."

He shrugged. "Vampires can't be that bad," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because my little girl is one," he replied gruffly, before pulling me into a hug. "Look. I'm happy this happened, because now I know you're out there somewhere, even though I know we may never see each other again. I'm assuming, based on how everyone was acting, that it's not allowed. Anyway, there's only one part of this night that mattered to me, and that was seeing you again. I don't really care about everything else. That's all your business. I won't even attempt to understand it." It was more words than he had ever said before at one time.

I couldn't help but smile. "Well, I'm sure you have _some_ burning questions."

He chuckled. "All right, you caught me. But only a few." He hesitated. "So is that why Edward left you that time?"

I blinked. I hadn't really been expecting that. "What do you mean?"

"Is that why he left? Because he was turned into a vampire and didn't want to hurt you?"

"Why the sudden urge to put him in a good light?" I teased. "No, Edward was turned by Carlisle before we met."

"You fell in love with a vampire?" He chuckled again. "Why am I not surprised? You do find trouble a lot. I guess all those incidents have a whole new meaning to me now. How old is Edward, then?"

"Seventeen," I said cheekily, giving the answer Edward had given me the first time.

Charlie sighed. "All right. When was he born, then?"

"Why all the interest in Edward, Dad?" I smirked at him, then replied, "Edward was born in 1901. In Chicago. He was dying of the Spanish Influenza in 1918 when Carlisle changed him."

"Isn't he a little old for you?" Charlie blurted.

I giggled. "No, Dad, he's not. Carlisle lived in the 1600s, you know. And Esme's only a few years older than Edward, counting by birth year. And Jasper and Alice aren't much closer in years than Edward and me. He fought in the Civil War, and she's actually from around the same time as Edward."

"All right, just being an over-protective father," he replied, smiling.

I studied his smile. It was awfully like the one he wore when trying to set me up with Jacob. "Dad," I said, "you aren't _still_ trying to get me with Jacob?"

"Well," he admitted, "I do know Jacob better… maybe you would never have to tell him," he added hopefully. He caught the look on my face. "Or is there something about Jacob that I don't know? I wouldn't be surprised," he muttered to himself.

I laughed. "First, it would be impossible for me never to tell him, since I would never age, but then again, neither would he. He's a werewolf, Dad," I said. I had thought that Charlie would freak out, but after this, I doubted he ever would. Might as well make it easier for Jacob, so he wouldn't have to make something up about nearly ignoring Charlie earlier.

To my surprise, a strange expression appeared on his face, and then he burst out into raucous guffaws. "I should have known!" he gasped. "The giant wolves, right? From two years ago?"

The car horn beeped. Demetri was getting antsy.

"Well, I guess you should go, then," said Charlie. "Seeing as it's getting light. You don't burn up in the light, do you?"

"No, Dad, we don't," I replied, grinning. "Most of those myths are false."

"Be careful, Bells," he said seriously, putting a hand on my shoulder. I relished the warmness of his palm. "I don't know how I'll feel about this after I go to bed and wake up, but right now, all I can think of is how I don't want you to go to Italy with those others. They seem dangerous."

"We'll be fine," I said. "Really. I'm different from before. There's not much that can hurt me now. Not like it was before, really."

"All right." He sighed. "You should know that Edward was trying to look out for you."

"I know," I replied sadly. I would fix things when I got back to him. I couldn't stand knowing that he was in pain, and my heart couldn't bear the separation much longer either.

"I love you, honey."

"I love you too, Dad."

And then I turned to walk away, not knowing if it would be the last time I would ever see him.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hopefully you caught the bit about Jacob being a werewolf. It took me a moment to remember Charlie's line in the warehouse. Maybe you remember that one too? :)

Yes, this chapter is short, but the next one is not an interlude, and I'm going to expand it, so that it will be obscenely long (it's already a lengthy chapter, but since I want the plot to move a bit faster, I'm going to stick more in one chapter).

Finally, a bit off-topic, but after reading _The Host_, does anyone else imagine a _Twilight/Host_ crossover? The Cullens and Bella in an alien-dominated world -- what would the aliens think of the vampires? I wonder if anyone's done anything like that yet. I don't think I will, don't worry (chantsnot going to abandon this story, not going to abandon this story); I'm rather rusty on my _Twilight_ stuff, having not read them in a few months, and I've only read through _The Host_ once, though it's sitting on my bookshelf right now. Someone let me know if there's a decent one out there.

Okay, excerpt from the next chapter, and I'll make it a long one to make up for the gap between this chapter and last chapter (William, FYI, is speaking through his thoughts... you'll find out why in the chapter):

_"Tell me about yourself," Edward said immediately._

That's a lot to say.

_"Exactly. __Something__ will help me remember."_

And if nothing does?

_"Then we'll try something else."_

What do I talk about? _The tiny flame of hope was growing larger now. Even if Edward hadn't cared before, he was at least making an effort now. No, William told himself, he couldn't think like that. It would make the disappointment when the inevitable happened even greater. He couldn't become too eager._

_"Anything. Your favorite memory of us together. Think of that."_

_William closed his eyes, then smiled as the perfect memory surfaced. He was lucky to find this one; he had forgotten so much. _Ready?_ he asked, opening his eyes to glance at Edward, who was now sitting cross-legged across from him. Edward nodded, shutting his eyes, and William followed suit._


	19. Conversations

**Author's Note: **Er... for some reason, the chapter alert didn't go out, so I'm reposting to see if it does this time.

_Edit:_ Aha, figured it out... it was actually my review alert as well. Sorry about that, but for some reason, I can't reply to you... :(

In this chapter, the plot finally moves forward! Yay!

Thanks so much to my reviewers since the last chapter, as always. I won't say too much up here, since 1.) I have nothing really to say before the chapter and 2.) I want to let you read.

**Disclaimer:** _Twilight_ and its related settings and characters do not belong to me.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Conversations**

Will closed his eyes against the pain, leaning his head against the wall. He hadn't expected Demetri to react like that, but then again, he hadn't thought about the consequences of his running off at all. He should have known, after all of Bianca's stories and warnings about the Volturi, that things like that weren't taken lightly. But he had allowed himself to be misled by Demetri and eventually Felix's seemingly light-heartedness. He should have remembered that first and foremost, they were soldiers of the Volturi.

There was one good thing about the pain, and that it acted even better than the Charleston at keeping Edward out of his head. Edward sat on the sofa, his face buried in his hands. William knew him well enough to know that two of his fingers were still pinching the bridge of his nose. He did that whenever he was agitated. William remembered thinking that Edward would break his nose off during one of his arguments with their parents about the war. His older brother had been excited over the idea of going over to Europe, but their parents had been decidedly dreading the day he turned eighteen. It had been such a relief to them when the war began to die down.

The memory of his past made him smile bitterly, though it came out more as a grimace because of the burning around his neck. Demetri had hit a vein.

He opened his eyes and glanced at his brother, who sat as still as a statue, not even breathing. One moment, Edward seemed to despise him, the next minute, William could have sworn his brother was back, protecting him like he had when they were humans. He didn't know what to think about Edward anymore, and a tiny part, one that he tried desperately to destroy, was beginning to hope that perhaps Edward didn't hate him, that Edward had cared and there was another reason why he didn't remember. But he didn't want to think this. It would hurt less if he just kept believing Edward had never cared about him. Then he, William, would be able to hate his brother in peace, like he had tried to do for the last ninety years.

Suddenly, Edward looked up, his eyes an inky black. His face showed some kind of internal struggle, and then he glanced at William. "Looks like we've been left behind," he said wryly, his lips twisted in a half smirk, half scowl, if that was possible.

William nodded, still unable to speak, though the pain was slowly starting to fade now. It would last for several more days as his own venom overcame the foreign venom, but the worst was over now.

"Will you be all right?" asked Edward, and William tried to ignore the concern in his tone. It probably wasn't even there. He had to be imagining it. Perhaps Edward was asking to be polite. He tried to muster up anger against his brother again, but failed, as he had been since the warehouse. After the warehouse, all he had managed to feel was… defeated.

"Fine," William croaked.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

This made William laugh. Clearly, Edward had not been bitten by another vampire since his transformation. Of course, he had grown up with his coven, probably as happy as he could be, completely ignorant of his brother on another continent, who had learned to be a vampire among all the rival vampires in Rome. The laugh tapered off into a wheeze, and he clutched at his neck for a moment before speaking. "Now I… I know… you haven't… been bitten," he gasped.

Edward's face was unreadable now. "How do you know?" he asked, his voice level.

"Because…" William caught his breath. "Because you w-would know… that there's n-no relief." He shuddered from the combination of effort and pain. "Though… I thought y-you would figure… it out." He winced. "No relief… from… changing either."

Edward remained silent for a moment. "I'm sorry for making you speak," he said finally. "It obviously hurts you."

"Then w-why don't you…" William blanched and continued bravely, "Why don't… you make… m-me speak more?" Pain tore through him, and he couldn't stop himself from making a noise that was half-sob, half-moan.

"Why would I do that?" whispered Edward. "And please, stop speaking aloud; it's clearly hurting you."

William grimaced, and then allowed his brother to break through the barriers in his mind. _Because you hate me. Because I ruined your perfect little life with Bella. Because you never cared for me, even when we were human._

"I don't hate you," Edward murmured. "You should hate me."

_I've tried. And in the past, I thought I did. But I can't._ William's heart hitched with pain as he acknowledged the fact for the first time. _Besides, what was that in the forest? You looked at me with such hate then._

"Please, William," Edward said, and his voice was thick as he moved to kneel down across from William. "You have to believe me. I don't hate you… I was disgusted with myself then. I… I don't know why I don't remember, but—" He stopped and pulled something out of his pocket. William's eyes widened. It was the photograph that he had thrown in the river ninety years before, the two pieces meticulously taped together. "I found this recently, and I'd been trying to remember the boy in the photograph when we met."

William slowly reached forward with a shaking hand and managed to take it. _Where did you get this?_

"I found it," Edward repeated.

_Impossible_.

"I had a box. Bella fell against the table it was sitting on, and the false bottom fell out of the box. This was in there."

_No. It's impossible. I threw this into the Hudson ninety years ago._ A thought popped into William's head. _Besides,_ he said, a note of accusation in the voice in his mind, _Dr. Cullen knew I existed. He must have told you. Either you just decided to forget me, or he knew not to even bother, because you obviously didn't care._

"Carlisle never said anything," said Edward, half to himself. He frowned. "Look. Like I said, I don't know why I don't remember you, but I want to make it right. I want to remember. I just get this feeling that things aren't as they seem."

_Well, how are you supposed to force yourself to remember?_ thought William, his tone biting.

"Tell me about yourself," Edward said immediately.

_That's a lot to say._

"Exactly. _Something_ will help me remember."

_And if nothing does?_

"Then we'll try something else."

_What do I talk about?_ The tiny flame of hope was growing larger now. Even if Edward hadn't cared before, he was at least making an effort now. No, William told himself, he couldn't think like that. It would make the disappointment when the inevitable happened even greater. He couldn't become too eager.

"Anything. Your favorite memory of us together. Think of that."

William closed his eyes, then smiled as the perfect memory surfaced. He was lucky to find this one; he had forgotten so much. _Ready?_ he asked, opening his eyes to glance at Edward, who was now sitting cross-legged across from him. Edward nodded, shutting his eyes, and William followed suit.

_Will was seven. It was nearing Christmas, and he was about to go crazy from the excitement. "Come on, Edward! I want to show you the train in the window!"_

"_I'm coming, I'm coming," grumbled a young teenage boy as he rounded the corner, scowling. It was Edward, thirteen years old and thinking very highly of himself because of it. "I don't know why you get so excited _every year_. It's the same train."_

_Will's lower lip trembled. He loved the train, and he had thought Edward did too. Every year, Will would keep an eye out for the day the train made its appearance in the toy shop window, _

_and then he and Edward would go look at it. But now Edward was different. He was taller now, and his voice was strange, becoming like their father's._

_Edward sighed and took his brother's mittened hand. "Lead the way," he said, plastering a grin of enthusiasm on his face._

_Will beamed and began to skip down State St., past the fancy department store with its red carpet and a doorman that their mother sometimes went to. The two meandered through the crowds in front of the Marshall Field Store, which were extremely dense in front of the new men's store, which had opened that spring. Nearby loomed the Masonic Temple, once the tallest building in the world. At the intersection of Randolph and State, a young newsie stood, hawking his papers. "Germans attack Dover and Ypres! Debutante ball to be held tonight at the Aston home! Extra, extra! Only two cents a copy!" Will gaped at all these sights; this was the first year the boys weren't being hurried along by their father, as the Masens had decided Edward was old enough to chaperone Will._

_The toy store was at the next corner, and there were already several other boys clustered around the window, pressing their noses against it. "Hello, James. George. Charles," greeted Edward, nodding at some boys his own age. Will felt a surge of pride. His brother was friends with so many people._

"_Edward!" said the one named James, his best friend. They clapped each other on the shoulders. "Here with your burden?"_

_Will wondered what he was talking about. Edward, however, laughed. "I see you have yours as well," he replied, nodding at James's brother Johnny, who was a couple of years older than Will. Johnny seemed attached to the window._

"_What burden?" asked Will._

"_Never you mind," muttered Edward, glaring at him. "Go on. Go look at your train, then."_

_Will blinked. "Aren't you going to look too?"_

"_I'll be along. Now go on." George and Charles were jabbing their fingers urgently toward a small cluster of girls their age. All of them were giggling and sending coy looks at the four older boys. They began walking over, and the four boys all blushed simultaneously. Edward noticed Will watching and scowled. "Go!" he hissed._

_Will thought girls were silly and giggly, but if Edward found them so interesting, he wanted to meet these girls. "I want to meet them too," he whined._

_Edward opened his mouth to shout at him again, but the girls had arrived. They stood in a huddle, still giggling, until one was shoved forward. She was dark-haired and pale, and seemed to be slightly more composed than the others. She was still blushing madly, though. "H-Hello," _

_she stammered, and this caused her to redden even more. "Fancy seeing all of you here." She fiddled with a button on her coat._

_James made an odd choking noise, and Edward made a sound that sounded suspiciously like "Hnugh." George started running his hand through his hair._

"_Hello!" said Will brightly, thinking it was awfully rude of all the older boys to not even reply. After all, one was always polite to a lady; that was what Mama always said. _

"_Oh!" said a small blonde girl behind the dark-haired girl. She dimpled. "Well, aren't you a darling! Isn't he, Isabelle?"_

"_So adorable!" agreed the dark-haired girl. "Edward, you have such a dear little brother. You must be close. He's much too cute for that not to be."_

"_I'm not a baby. I'm seven," Will informed her. He didn't like being called a darling. That was for babies._

"_Quiet," snapped Edward. The girls pouted, and his glare softened into an utterly bewildering expression. Edward had never looked at him like that before, not even when they were younger. "I mean," he added quickly. "Of course you are. But that doesn't make you any less of a, er, darling."He smiled painfully, reached over, ruffled Will's hair, and removed his hand quickly. "How would you like a piggyback ride, Will? I know I haven't given you one in a while."_

"_You haven't ever—" began Will, but Edward cut him off, his eyes widening, his nostrils flaring. Well, if Edward wanted it… "All right," he said brightly._

"_Oh! Edward, you're such an excellent elder brother!" exclaimed Isabelle._

"_Really?" he preened, crouching. James and the other two boys wore looks of petulant jealousy. Will clambered onto his brother's back and held on tight. Edward then attempted to get up, but stumbled. "Oof! You're getting heavy!" There was a definite annoyed undertone in his voice. Isabelle covered her mouth with her hand and exchanged glances with her friends._

"_Well, darling, have a sweet," she said, placing a taffy in Will's hand. Will liked her immediately. "Your brother will give you a ride all the way home, so you'll need something to do. Chew on that."_

"_I'm giving him a ride home?" repeated Edward as his friends shook with silent laughter._

"_Of course. You can't refuse a darling like him, can you?" simpered Isabelle. "Well, we'd better get going. Goodbye, Edward. James, George, Charles. See you at school?"_

_The other boys gave their affirmative responses. Edward grunted. "Oh, you aren't put out about this, are you?" she asked._

"_No. Of course not," lied Edward._

"_That's sweet of you." She thought for a moment, then tentatively pecked him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas," she added bashfully, before she and her friends ran off._

"_She didn't!" exclaimed James incredulously._

"_She kissed you!" squealed Will. "That's so disgusting! You don't even let Mama kiss you!"_

_Edward ignored him. He left without saying goodbye to the others, clearly in a daze. He was still in one until they reached the corner of the street they lived on, when he suddenly whooped and jumped, nearly dropping Will and causing their neighbors to stare._

"Isabelle… Isabella," Will murmured. "Not much… variation, eh?" He grinned, the memory still warming his heart.

Edward looked thoughtful. "I… I do remember now," he said. "Isabelle. I had forgotten her. And there's the boy. You."

William's heart soared. _You remember?_

"Just that. But I do." He smiled, and it grew. "I remember it." He closed his eyes. "And… and I remember that when I went back to Chicago to settle some affairs a few years after the change, she was married. To… to James. She kissed me once more after that Christmas, but that was it." He frowned. "I… William, I haven't remembered anything from that time between my transformation and my rebellious stage before. Nothing concrete. Just the basics, like how I went back to settle affairs, and that only because I had our parents' things."

_Rebellious stage?_

"I don't know why, but for a few years, I played at being God, feeding on criminals. I always thought that maybe I was rebelling against Carlisle's wholehearted goodness, his resolution to feed only on animals, against our basic instinct. But now… now, I remember pain. I don't know." He shuddered, then looked up again.

_We're onto something._

Edward's eyes blazed as he nodded in agreement. "Show me another one," he demanded, breathless.

William closed his eyes again and fished for another dim memory.

_It was a sweltering hot day, the sun beating down on Will's face and neck. He knew he would be burnt to a crisp, and that his mother would scold him until he was eighty for it, but better out in the heat than inside. He scowled. He could still hear the argument, even though it was taking place in Aunt Lillian's parlor. _

"_When the time comes, I _will_ go to Europe!" shouted Edward, his voice cracking slightly with anger. "We're at war, Mother!"_

"_Edward, you're sixteen, for heaven's sake!" shrieked Elizabeth, and Will could imagine her beautiful face mottled with frustration. "There are two more years before you turn eighteen – the war might be over by then!"_

"_Well," he snapped, "you and Father shouldn't be worried, then. Stop worrying about me, and then maybe we can stop arguing in Aunt Lillian's house."_

_There was a pause, and Will strained his ears to hear his mother's next, quiet response, despite himself. "Henry told me that he heard you telling Margaret Trellis's daughter… Florence, I believe, that you were going to enlist. That you were going to go to the recruiting station here, where they don't know you, and lie about your age."_

_Another silence. "Henry's a filthy liar," Edward replied finally, in a wooden voice._

_Will could hear the lie in his voice, and he knew his mother could too. Edward had never been a good liar. "Edward, darling," said their mother soothingly. "I know that Florence is a pretty girl, and perhaps you wanted to impress her. But you must understand, your father and I were worried, and we wanted to make sure—"_

"_Mother, I do not see Florence that way. We've known each other too long," interrupted Edward. "And I've had enough of this. I'm going out."_

"_Edward! Where do you think you're going?" _

_A moment later, Edward stormed out the front door, and Will had to scramble to the side of the front steps to avoid being stomped on. "I'll show them," muttered Edward, clearly not even noticing his brother. "'Florence is a pretty girl,' indeed…"_

"_Where are you going?" blurted out Will as Edward began to walk briskly down the street, his fists clenched at his sides. _

"_Out," replied Edward in a clipped tone, not even turning around._

"_Can I come with you?"_

"_No."_

_Will let him round the corner before running after him. "Please?" he begged._

_Edward kept his eyes ahead of him, though his scowl deepened. "No."_

_A horrible feeling came over Will. "You are, aren't you?" he asked softly. "You're going down to the recruiting station."_

"_It's none of your concern," said Edward acidly._

_A rush of anger coursed through Will, and he clenched his fists, suddenly furious. He had never been angry with Edward before; Edward had always been a god in his eyes before. "It is my concern," he hissed, so different from his normal voice that his brother was startled into turning around. "It is my concern whether or not you leave us to die, whether or not you completely destroy Mother and Father, whether or not you're still around to be my big brother. You might have forgotten about us in your hurry to go shoot at Germans, but I…" He choked, and to his embarrassment, tears began to run down his cheeks. "I wouldn't ever forget you," he whispered. "Because I love you, I really do."_

_Edward studied him for what seemed like years, his eyes completely masked. Then he knelt down, and an easy grin spread across his face. "You're awfully mature for a nine-year-old, you know that?"_

"_That's not the point," snapped Will, though he smiled a little bit as well._

"_Listen," said Edward quietly, his expression now serious. "I love you too. No matter what I've said and done lately, you need to know that." He gently pulled the wooden ship from underneath Will's shirt. "Adventures, remember? We will be brothers, always." He smiled grimly. "I suppose I have been a bit of a senseless idiot these days. But I was telling Mother the truth; please don't tell me that you would believe Henry over me. I wouldn't leave you like this if it hurts you so much. I can't say anything about when I turn eighteen, though," he added wryly. "But I will _never_ forget you, Will, or Mother, or Father. I haven't forgotten you."_

_Will gave his brother a watery smile, his heart soaring. "Promise?"_

"_I promise. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, Will, and I will never forget you, so long as I live, and even after that. Because you are my brother, and I love you."_

Edward shuddered, and neither brother said anything for a long time. Finally, Edward spoke in a shaky voice, so different from his usual confident tone. "Forgive me," he whispered.

William was about to think that there was nothing to forgive, but realized that it was not what Edward needed. _I forgive you_, he thought, but he wondered inwardly, where Edward could not penetrate, if he really did. Was that it? Was he really just angry with Edward?

"Thank you," murmured Edward, his eyes closed.

"Edward?" It was Bella, standing in the doorway.

"Bella," said Edward, relief in his voice, as his eyes snapped open, his expression changing immediately to hide his inner turmoil. He stood up immediately and strode toward her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said what I said earlier. It was callous of me."

She embraced him. "There's no need," she murmured. "I overreacted. Charlie understood what you were doing, though. He reminded me as I left." She stepped back. "Demetri wants to leave soon. Have you hunted?"

William swore inwardly. He needed to hunt. But how?

Edward glanced at him. "William and I were talking."

"Oh." Bella didn't seem to like William much. He didn't blame her; they had, after all, kidnapped her father and threatened to kill him. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Fine," he managed.

The tall blond vampire entered then, carrying sealed bags of blood at arm's length in front of him. "Jasper, what are you doing?" asked Bella.

"I thought about how you wouldn't be able to hunt. You know, with that," he said to William, pointing at the wound in his neck, placing the blood on the floor next to him. "I mean, I know from experience that this is nowhere near the real thing, but it will have to do. This ought to tide you over until we get to Italy." His sleeve rode up as he stood, and William caught a glimpse of a series of crescent-shaped scars on his arm. He did know, clearly. "You should get hunting, Edward."

"Thank you," William said, picking up a bag gingerly. He had never tasted packaged blood before and knew it would not be an enjoyable experience. But it was either that or risk revealing them as vampires. He took an experimental gulp and nearly gagged. It tasted horrible.

"I'll be back soon," said Edward. "You haven't hunted either yet, have you?" he asked Bella.

"No," she replied. "We should go."

_Isabelle, Isabella_, said William, almost teasingly.

Edward snorted. Bella looked at him questioningly. "I'll explain later," he promised her.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Did you like the memories? The first one was originally the only one I had in here, though obviously, it's just a bit of fluff. But I was thinking, well, would William's favorite memory of Edward be serious? Most likely, it _would_ be something silly like the Christmas scene. The second memory was added in later, to add a bit of substance to the William-Edward bonding session, although poor Edward is likely feeling very guilty right now.

I did a little research on Chicago in the early 1900s, and couldn't resist putting a few historical bits in there. That's probably going to backfire on me, since I have never been to Chicago, nor do I know much about the city then, but if I got something wrong, let's pretend that this is an AU Chicago, shall we? Anyway, the website I _did_ use for my research was this one: patsabin(dot)com(slash)illinois(slash)vintagestatest(dot)htm. Yes, it's a bunch of postcards, but they really are like a tour of Chicago in 1914. The date of the scene, by the way, is approximately December 10, 1914, but I didn't want to put that up top, in case I got my facts wrong. The Germans did in fact attack Ypres and Dover on that date, though, as the newsboy says.

As for William and Bella -- William's right. Bella doesn't really like him, and that will be explained next chapter. Here's the preview:

_He adjusted his sunglasses; it wouldn't do to have a human see his ruby red eyes. Rubbing his throbbing neck, he looked sidelong at Bella, who had been assigned to the seat next to his. At first, he had offered to switch with Edward, who was sitting several rows ahead with his sister Rosalie. But Edward had studied the two of them carefully for a moment before refusing to switch. _

_The fact that Edward had merely smiled and shrugged when Bella asked why certainly did not make her like William any more. She had thus far refused to speak to him, and still, William couldn't blame her._

_The two of them sat in obstinate silence as the plane taxied and then took off. He had resigned himself to not talking for the next seven hours when Bella suddenly spoke. "You ought to know," she said levelly, in a voice only William could hear, "that it's not Edward's fault."_

It's very possible that this could change, though.

Finally, please review! Let's see if we can make it to 300... that'll be more reviews than I ever imagined for this fic! :)


	20. Pride and Prejudice

**Author's Note:** So a few of you mentioned that it has been three months since I updated, which is unacceptable. My excuse is that _Breaking Dawn_ made this fic AU (not to mention I have no inclination to include -- shudder -- _Renesmee_ or most of the new canon). Alec's gift will be taken into account, and some of the other vampires could make an appearance, but everything else? No. So if that turns you off this fic, I'm sorry, but there's really no point in my trying to follow the new canon, since Will's very existence defies it.

I'm not too sure about the following chapter, but it is the last chapter that I finished, and you all seemed to want it very badly, so...

**Disclaimer: **_Twilight _and its characters and settings do not belong to me, as I would not have named the child (?!) of Bella and Edward "Renesmee." No offense to anyone who actually thought that name was anything but revolting.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Pride and Prejudice**

William was not looking forward to spending another seven or eight hours on a crowded jet plane, surrounded by what he perceived as walking bits of food, made worse by the fact that they hadn't been able to get seats in first class, since they were booking so late. But Aro wanted them back as soon as possible. The first flight, from Seattle to New York, had been just bearable, and possibly only because he had been sandwiched between the window and Carlisle Cullen, and by Alice and Jasper – they had finally got around to introductions before leaving – and Edward and Bella in front and behind them. Surrounded by vegetarians, although Jasper didn't seem to breathe the entire time.

He adjusted his sunglasses; it wouldn't do to have a human see his ruby red eyes. Rubbing his throbbing neck, he looked sidelong at Bella, who had been assigned to the seat next to his. At first, he had offered to switch with Edward, who was sitting several rows ahead with his sister Rosalie. But Edward had studied the two of them carefully for a moment before refusing to switch.

The fact that Edward had merely smiled and shrugged when Bella asked why certainly did not make her like William any more. She had thus far refused to speak to him, and still, William couldn't blame her.

The two of them sat in obstinate silence as the plane taxied and then took off. He had resigned himself to not talking for the next seven hours when Bella suddenly spoke. "You ought to know," she said levelly, in a voice only William could hear, "that it's not Edward's fault."

"What's not Edward's fault?" William knew, but he wanted to make sure. Bella knew something, or so he hoped fervently. He began humming the Charleston in his head again. It really was effective at keeping Edward out, though Edward probably was blocking everyone out because of all the humans on the plane. But it didn't hurt to be safe.

"He did care about you," she replied stiffly, as if it was only out of duty that she was telling him. "He told you about his rebellious years?" William nodded. "It all began when he thought you died."

He gulped. This seemed unreal to him. "And… and how do you know this?"

"Carlisle told me. He… he said that Edward visited you twice. The first time, he was the one to retrieve the box you threw in the ocean." A memory rose in William's mind: a young, pale man, his hat pulled over his face, hiding it. Could it have been Edward? "The second time, he came to see how you were doing after your trip to Europe. He heard you were dead, and when he went back to Carlisle and Esme, he couldn't remember much about his first eight years of being a vampire."

"He sent the charm," muttered William to himself. His brother had cared; he had been destroyed when he heard William was dead. He shivered, his throat tightening. If he had been human, he would have wept. Instead, he peeked over the seat and glimpsed Edward watching them. He 

turned up the Charleston in his mind, then asked, "Why didn't you tell him? He's torturing himself, thinking there's something wrong with him."

"He needs to find out on his own. It's what Carlisle decided," she added when William opened his mouth to argue. "Why did you have to try and hurt him that way? You didn't know what he had gone through!"

William understood now. She didn't dislike him merely because he had tried to hurt Charlie. She disliked him for hurting Edward as well. "And _you_ don't know what I have gone through," he hissed.

"You're right. I don't. But you know what?" whispered Bella angrily. "Even if your roles had been reversed, Edward wouldn't have done what you did. He wouldn't have tried to hurt his own brother, no matter how resentful or whatever it was he felt."

The barb hit its target, but William wasn't about to let her see that. Edward _wouldn't_ have done the same thing. He would have jumped straight to thinking that perhaps he was lacking, as William had only done afterwards. It made him want to emphasize the difference between him and Edward even more. "And how!" he said with mock joy. "Unfortunately, while Edward is a prim little Victorian wet blanket, I grew up in the Roaring Twenties. And, doll, that makes a world of difference." He winced inwardly. That was how Henry used to talk.

She only stared at him, her face mirroring her disgust. He felt his annoyance build. Had she been expecting him to be a saint? No, just Edward. Then again, Edward was better than a saint in some respects. He hadn't got past a peck on the lips with Isabelle before he had "died." William wondered if maybe that was why Bella was so uptight. Because she wasn't getting any. The thought made him snort, although it made him feel a little guilty to be thinking such things about Edward, now that he knew what had happened.

"What's so funny?" snapped Bella. She wasn't even trying to hide her dislike for him anymore, and in a way, he still couldn't blame her. He was being difficult, after all. But it was too late to try and get off on the right foot.

"It's not proper for me to say," said William, his nose up in the air. He sat up ramrod straight and folded his hands on his lap.

"What is wrong with you?" she hissed.

"What is wrong with _you_?" he countered, suddenly tired of trying to get a rise out of her. "I didn't know he cared! Imagine this, Bella… losing your brother, thinking he's dead, and being sent to live in a new city with a bullying cousin that your brother no longer can protect you from. Imagine having the perfect future but wanting none of it. Imagine taking the trip you and your brother were supposed to take _together_, having things go awfully wrong, and killing the only good friend you made on the trip, a friend that may have been able to replace your brother. Imagine living a half life in the shadows for eighty years with a woman who you cannot love 

back because she just doesn't live in the same world you do, because you're so far removed. Imagine this, Bella, and maybe you'll understand why I'm not like Edward!"

"Edward's had his share," said Bella, but weakly. Her eyes were full of pity now, and William didn't want her pity.

"Oh, yes, his share. He told me about playing God after he thought I had died. So maybe we're equal in that respect. But he's lived these past ninety years with a family, and he found love. But you know what? I'm glad that this is the way it is. Edward was always the pure one. Our mother thought he could do no wrong. He stumbled, yes, but he's still untarnished for the most part, and I'm sure that makes our mother happy. It makes _me_ happy."

There was a long pause. "I'm sorry," she said finally, and she looked defeated. "Forgive me. I did the thing that I was accusing you of doing."

"Well, I did do it," he said stiffly. He felt tired, a strange sensation for a vampire. His neck was throbbing harder than before. "And I apologize for my words. They were inappropriate and completely against decorum."

"Apology accepted." She smiled, tentatively, and he felt his dislike for her lighten slightly. Maybe Edward had been right in choosing her after all. There was an awkward silence while both of them contemplated suggesting that they start over. "I think we got off on the wrong foot," she said finally.

"Yes, we did," he agreed. "Shall we start over?"

"Okay." She held out a hand for him to shake. "Isabella Cullen, though everyone calls me Bella. At school, I go by Bella Swan, Edward's longtime girlfriend."

"William Masen," he replied, taking her hand. "So Edward and I didn't get to talk much about our lives… er, existences after we were separated. How long have you two been together?"

"About three years."

"That's not very long. Where were you before that?"

Bella looked confused for a moment, then she giggled. "I wasn't a vampire before that," she said, grinning. "I've only been a vampire for a little over a year."

William felt slightly stupid. "Oh. Right. I forgot," he said sheepishly. That was why they were there, after all.

"So, um, you lived in the Roaring Twenties?"

"Yes."

She hesitated, then asked, "What was it like?"

"Er, well, it was interesting," said William. His memories of that time were mostly blurred. "I was a good boy until I met this girl, the daughter of one of my aunt's friends. She, ah, brought me to a speakeasy on the day we met. I don't think I was ever so out of my depth as I was there, but I did learn the Charleston that night. I use the Charleston to keep Edward out of my head, you know."

This amused her, and she laughed. It was a nice laugh, and William liked her more for it. Edward needed someone like her, someone who could laugh at themselves and occasionally, him.

"It's my turn now," he said.

"Right," said Bella, slightly wary.

"Why Edward?"

She blinked. "Why not Edward?" she asked finally. "He's kind, intelligent, talented, wonderful—"

"— Not to mention impatient, domineering, and with very little sense of humor at times," interrupted William. She opened her mouth to retort, probably to defend her husband, but he held up a hand to stop her. "I know my brother, Bella. And believe me, he was my hero when I was growing up. But you gave up your humanity to join him. And I don't even know if _I_ would want to spend eternity with Edward," he added jokingly.

She thought for a moment. "I don't know what to say," she admitted after a long pause. "There's just no way to describe it. It's like… there's no one else for me, like it's a fact of life. I _had_ no other possible future – it's either I'm at Edward's side or I don't exist, simple as that. Do you know what I'm saying?"

An image of Bianca flashed in front of William's eyes. Did he know what Bella was saying? Did he love Bianca unconditionally, to the point that he could not exist without her? The truth was that he didn't know if he loved her that way, which meant he did not know what Bella was talking about. "No," he replied softly. "I don't think I do."

Bella hesitated. "Edward told me what… what Demetri said back in Forks. If you don't mind me asking, who is Bianca?"

"She's – she's…" William searched for the right description. "She's the one who changed me."

She looked uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said. "I should mind my own business."

"No, no," he replied hurriedly. Bella was his brother's wife, and for some reason, he felt as if he could confide in her, as if she were a sister by blood, despite the fact that they were near strangers. "To tell the truth, I don't know if I love her," he admitted. "She changed me because 

she saw me on the street, because she fell in love at first sight. You know," he added, "it's a bit like you and Edward, except I'm not Edward. I'm too selfish to love her back."

"Love is never associated with selfishness," murmured Bella. "I think you're just scared. One day, you'll realize that you do love her, and you'll admit it. I'm sure of it."

"Scared?"

"Edward left me once," she said simply. He stared at her. "On my eighteenth birthday, there was a minor accident, and what happened afterwards convinced him that it was unsafe for me to be with him. He was scared, so he left me, telling me that he didn't love me. Obviously, he realized later that it was a mistake. And that was when I learned that I could never exist without him, not fully. I was a shell those months he was gone."

"I'm not Edward."

"Sure, sure. But you have more in common than you think. You're both overly melodramatic and have the tendency to think of yourselves as lower than you really are. The world has a way of working out in the end, no matter how messed up it seems at times. I really think vampires have a way of finding their perfect matches, the people who are more than soul mates to them. Bianca was drawn to you, which means that someone out there decided that you two were meant to be."

"How very… metaphysical of you," William teased. "You don't exactly strike me as the horoscope-reading type, though."

"I'm not. I usually think that kind of stuff is a load of crap. But werewolves have their imprinting; why can't vampires have theirs? We're all not supposed to exist anyway, so who's to say we can't be governed by rules that don't exist for other beings?"

"An admirable speech."

She pretended to bow. "Thank you." She sighed, and they fell into a comfortable silence. Suddenly, her face grew worried. "William, I have to say something," she blurted out. "And I don't want to tell Edward or the others. They'd just get agitated."

"Yes?"

"I'm scared. I don't want to meet the Volturi again."

"There's nothing to be afraid of. They won't hurt you."

"I'm not scared for myself. But I don't want to join the Volturi; I don't want to drink human blood. I don't want to follow the bidding of Aro, Marcus, and Caius. There's no refusing the Volturi, and I don't want anyone to get hurt trying to protect me. I don't need protection, but no one seems to remember that. It's like I'll always be human to them."

He sighed. "You're right," he said pensively. "I won't lie to you. You can't refuse the Volturi, not forever. One day, they'll convince you to say yes. The question is if you say yes earlier or later."

"I can't say yes, though, William. No offense, but I can't watch innocent humans die, even if they allow me to keep my diet. I can't kill without a thought. Jane _enjoys_ torturing people, and even Aro doesn't bat an eyelash when she does. He encourages her. The Volturi keep order, but they have no mercy; they're so fair, it's almost cruel."

William closed his eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "But what can we do?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Right, so before any of you flame me for being so anti-_Breaking Dawn_ sounding... I did actually enjoy reading the book, even though I found myself cringing a lot. I don't know why I enjoyed it, when so many seemed to be less happy with the last installment, but... Anyway, that's my second disclaimer, which I didn't want to take up space up top with.

Like I mentioned before, this is the last chapter that I have written. After this, I don't know when the next chapter will be posted, or if there will even be a next chapter. I am back in school now, and unlike last year, I have decided to cram into one semester every possible activity I can be a part of. And I have applied to study abroad in London next semester, so I could be very busy then too. Anyway, should I never update this fic, we can pretend that the Volturi bit in _Breaking Dawn_ happens, except over Bella, not Renesmee. Yeah. But if I do update, please forget the crappy makeshift ending.

Please review -- I do still enjoy receiving reviews, even though I'm being a very mean author.


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